


The Skies Were Never So Blue

by alby_mangroves, arsenicandsunshine



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, Arthur's a prat, Banter, Bickering, Coffee, Cowboy AU, First Kiss, Illustrated, M/M, Starting Off On The Wrong Foot, background Gwen/Morgana - Freeform, but we love him anyway, so does Merlin, so much coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/arsenicandsunshine/pseuds/arsenicandsunshine
Summary: Arthur's exhausted. Not that he'll admit that to Morgana, his father, or even himself. And now he’s gotten dragged along on what was supposed to be a vacation—and there’s an annoying ranch hand that’s frustratingly handsome. A fact that is at the top of the running list of things he’s never going to admit to anyone.Merlin has been roped into working in his uncle's dude ranch. And one of the current guests is a particular prat. A hot one—a thought he’ll keep to himself, thank you—but still a clotpole. And he just keeps doing stupid things. Like trying to pet a bison.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 120
Kudos: 260
Collections: After Camlann Big Bang





	1. Wyoming Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets to the ranch and immediately makes a friend—er, enemy. Because he just can’t not poke stuff, alright?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating is for the language, really. I have a favorite word and it starts with f. Feel like Arthur would share this with me. Thanks so much to inferiormacchiato for the fantastic (and quick) beta! She really helped me make this the best it could be. Also alby_mangrove’s art is amazing, and I can’t wait for you all to see it. 
> 
> Cheers!

Arthur Pendragon was not a patient man. Some people might call that a character flaw, but he’d made peace with it—and, he would argue, if the rest of the world just got on board it wouldn’t be a problem. In the meantime, he kicked at his duffle bag and scanned the airport again. "Pendragon" was still missing from the cowboys holding signs, leaving Arthur rolling his eyes at yet another pair of scuffed-up boots. One older gentleman dragging a heavy suitcase off the belt had boots so old and cracked the leather looked like potato skins. 

“Stop fidgeting, Arthur. It's not going to make it any better.”

Morgana was lounging in a faux leather chair, framed by mountains through the floor to ceiling window behind her. The Jackson Hole Airport was tiny. The kind of tiny that meant deplaning passengers were warned about the steep stairs and jaunt across the tarmac into the terminal. Arthur's eyes wandered over the rough beams on the vaulted ceiling. For being so minuscule, the airport was an impressive blend of Western roughness and expensive modern architecture. 

The stream of passengers thinned out, the few remaining cowboys drifting out with decidedly non-cowboys and luggage in tow. Arthur scanned the lineup of SUVs bearing taxi logos, fuming. Morgana carved an eyebrow over her iPhone and shook her head, returning to Instagram. 

“Someone will be here soon.”

“Do we have the phone number for the ranch? Or dad’s old friend, what’s his name—Gaius?” 

“Why? Because we've been sitting here for ten minutes?”

“Because,” Arthur glared at a passing local, “We were supposed to be met at the airport.”

He rolled his neck, trying to get the kink out from the flight. His mind bounced between tired annoyance and the to-do list waiting for him when he got back to New York as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. For the first time in his life, he felt thoroughly out of place—a Tom Ford jacket in a sea of Wranglers. God, he’d look ridiculous in one of those hats. 

“And we will be. Chill before you give yourself an aneurysm.”

Arthur tried to still his tapping foot, only to have Morgana rolling her eyes at him a few seconds later. 

“What? Someone should have been here by now. They clearly forgot.”

“They didn't forget, it's fine. Arthur, this is supposed to be a vacation. Chill the fuck out.”

Arthur turned around and surveyed the baggage claim area again. He locked eyes with someone his age in potato-skinned boots and a white cowboy hat turned brown from sweat around the rim. His hard and accusing eyes triggered every less-than-stellar macho tendency of Arthur's. The boy dragged a suitcase off the belt and shoved it at the girl he was with, still maintaining eye contact with Arthur. 

“Can I help you?” Arthur asked as the stranger got closer, glare tightly locked on Arthur. 

“You can get back on a plane and leave,” the guy muttered as he smacked into Arthur's shoulder on his way to the door. 

“Excuse me?”

Morgana was straightening up in her chair with a warning look Arthur ignored as he turned away. 

“You got a problem?” Arthur asked, shifting his weight to his back foot and widening his stance. 

“Only with entitled city-slickers like you. You've seen the mountains, now get out.”

“It's a free country, I've got as much right to be here as you do.”

The guy laughed, harsh and dark. 

“The fuck you do.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your slut and get out,” the guy said, jerking his chin towards Morgana. 

The edges of Arthur's vision blurred as he stepped forward and grabbed the man's shirt. 

“What did you just say?” Arthur asked, voice low and dangerous. 

“I said—”

A hand on Arthur's shoulder pushed him back as someone inserted himself between Arthur and the guy with the stained hat. 

“Whatever you two are about to do, don’t.”

“This is none of your business,” Arthur said, keeping his gaze on the original problem. The girl, still juggling both of their suitcases, tugged on the guy’s arm and muttered something Arthur couldn’t hear, a tired look on her face. He seemed to decide Arthur wasn’t worth the trouble after all, taking the opportunity to flip Arthur off and follow the girl through the doors. 

“You always get involved where you're not wanted?”

“You always act like a prat?” the newcomer spat back. He had unruly black hair and the bluest eyes Arthur had ever seen. Including in the mirror. His gaze drifted over the young man in front of him. Close to his own age, with a lanky build, faded gray hoodie, thin wrists... That was about the moment Arthur noticed the crumbled name card dangling from his right hand. A name card that started with “Pend-.” 

“I think you're looking for us.”

“Are you sure? I wasn't told I was picking up an entitled ass.”

That threw Arthur for a loop. 

“You can't talk to me like that.”

“And why not, your highness?”

The sarcasm dripped off the other man's ratty hoodie. 

“You're the one who's late!”

The bickering had gotten Morgana out of her chair. She snapped her eyes between them before gently laying a hand on Arthur's arm. 

“Are you from the Fallen Kings Ranch?”

“Maybe. Are you the Pendragons?”

The guy hadn't fully stopped glaring at Arthur. His gaze softened a little when it moved to Morgana. 

“Yes,” Morgana pulled out the smile she usually reserved for their father, “I’m Morgana and his royal dumbass is Arthur.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. He shouldn't be so surprised, not coming from Morgana. His half-sister was nothing if not thoroughly, frustratingly annoying—and always just when he didn't want her to be. He stifled a sigh and slung his duffel bag onto his shoulder.

“Merlin.” The young man stuck out his hand, decidedly to Morgana. 

“It's nice to meet you, Merlin,” Morgana said, shaking his hand. 

“Can I help you with your luggage?”

“Sure.” Morgana passed him the handle of her rolling suitcase and gathered her carry-on bag. Merlin started walking to the door when Arthur made no move to unsling his bag from his shoulder. 

“You can cut the smile now,” he muttered to Morgana as they trailed behind Merlin. 

“I haven't balanced out your surliness yet,” Morgana gritted through her still plastered-on, over-the-top smile. 

Arthur snorted. 

“What? To him?”

“You know, of all the things Dad wanted us to do, pissing off the locals was definitely not on the list.”

Before Arthur had a chance to respond, Merlin was turning to Morgana for her carry-on bag to stow in the trunk of a black Ford Explorer parked by the curb. He then turned to Arthur and stuck a hand out. 

“Oh so you're not going to make me do that myself?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. 

“Hand it over, prat. You might hurt yourself if you have to do manual labor.”

Arthur glared as he took his bag off his shoulder and then maintained direct eye contact as he muscled past Merlin and tossed his bag beside Morgana's pink suitcase. 

“Well, the prince isn't totally helpless,” Merlin quipped. 

Arthur slid into the back and was fishing around for the seat belt as Merlin rolled down his window and waved to a local cop leaning against the hood of his cruiser.

The police officer waved back and called out, “For God's sake, leave earlier next time Merlin.”

Merlin just broke into a smile Arthur could only see the corner of. 

“You know me,” he grinned and took off. 

The airport was an island in a sea of sagebrush. A long, straight road acted as a jetty, looking like it disappeared into the sagebrush waves before Arthur noticed cars like ants on the main road. 

Merlin directed every one of his questions or comments to Morgana in the passenger seat on the ride to the ranch. Arthur kept his mouth shut and instead gaped over the stunning mountains rising up from the valley floor. He’d been staring at them since the snow-covered peaks first broke through the clouds out the airplane window. The descent into Jackson had lived up to the captain’s warnings, but not even Morgana’s nails digging into his arm had been able to draw Arthur’s attention away from the majestic mountains. The Tetons really were as jaw-dropping as his father had said they’d be. 

He kept accidentally catching a glimpse of bright blue eyes in the rearview mirror. He swore Merlin caught him staring, but the guy didn't respond in any way except to mutter something Arthur couldn't hear. 

“So why are you guys in town?”

Arthur stiffened a little, still staring at the mountains out the window. He’d been forced into this by Morgana after an old family friend had called their father, reminding him of an apparently long-standing offer to visit the dude ranch in Wyoming. Never mind it was the middle of September and long past any normal time to take a vacation. Arthur hadn’t known his father had friends, much less old ones that would call to chat. There were some vague memories about an “Uncle” Gaius knocking around in his brain, but he couldn’t put a face to the name. 

“Vacation, you know, some time off from everything,” Morgana said, with that smile still in place. 

Arthur was surprised Morgana’s face hadn't cracked or burst into flames by now. He didn't know she was capable of going this long without glaring at someone. 

“Well, Jackson is definitely a change of pace from NYC,” Merlin said, turning off the highway onto a gravel road. 

Arthur scrunched his face up, wondering exactly where they were staying. Somewhere between all the meetings and the spreadsheets, notions of “needing to take a break” and “isn't the West nice” kept popping up until he found his dad shoving plane tickets into his hands. As they bumped along a dusty road, Arthur started crossing his fingers for running water. This place was already a hike from the airport. Movement in the field to his left caught Arthur's thoughts as a group of huge, tan beasts lumbered into view. 

"Are those... buffalo?" Arthur exclaimed. 

Merlin slowed down, Morgana craning her neck to see past him. 

“Technically bison, but yep, we ranch them on the side.”

"Really," Arthur said, childhood excitement swelling up. 

Merlin met his eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled, just for a moment—before the crow's feet faded and Merlin jerked his gaze back to the road in front of him. 

Another mile or so down the road, a cluster of buildings popped out from behind the pine trees. The first thing Arthur noticed when getting out of the car was the quiet. The wind was rustling pine needles, and that really was all the noise in the world. No cars, no hum of anything. He hadn't realized how noisy even his apartment was until right now. 

The silence was shattered by Merlin crunching gravel under his feet and saying, "If you guys go on into the main house, Gwen will get you checked in." 

It shouldn't grate on him—he'd known the man all of thirty minutes—but Merlin's entire existence rubbed him the wrong way. A horse whinnied in the distance and Arthur gave up on the unnatural quiet, following Morgana up the steps and into the sprawling ranch house. 

Gwen was a lovely girl who swiftly checked them in and retrieved physical keys (real, old fashioned keys) for them from behind the desk. She and Morgana were instant friends, chatting away while Arthur did his best to keep his fists unclenched. The last thing he wanted to do was prove Morgana right about how on edge he'd been lately. 

"I'll show you guys to your cabins. I could let Merlin do it, but Lord knows he'd probably get lost on the way down there." 

Morgana laughed. 

"He seems alright," she said, warmly. 

"Oh, we love him, but that doesn't make him less of a disaster some days," Gwen laughed in response. She waved at said person as they came out of the main ranch house. Merlin was still leaning against the Explorer, scrolling through his phone. 

A path around the side of the house disappeared towards cabins Arthur vaguely remembered his father saying something about, in the middle of extolling to Arthur how a little time away would be good for him. 

Merlin quietly followed them down the path as Gwen continued to talk to Arthur and Morgana about the details of their stay. He deposited their bags in their respective cabins, tossing Arthur's on the bed a little harder than Arthur thought strictly necessary, and disappeared. Gwen stuck around for only a second longer to tell them what time dinner was before heading back down the path. 

Arthur waited until she was out of earshot and turned to Morgana. 

"Since when are you the warmest, fuzziest person on the planet?" 

“You catch more flies with honey, Arthur,” she said, with that sweet smile Arthur knew to be terrified of. 

Arthur was scowling, and he knew it.

"Besides, I like Gwen. She seems great." Morgana turned and started towards her cabin. "So does Merlin," she added over her shoulder as she stepped inside. 

Arthur stood staring at the sky in exasperation for a good five minutes after Morgana left. The perfect stillness had returned. The quiet felt oppressive for a long moment, a stark contrast from the constant buzz of the city, Arthur feeling lost and.... something he couldn't put words to. 

His feet felt stuck to the ground. Every beat of his heart pushing against the ringing in his ears. Slowly, the silence came alive. Leaves fluttering on the aspen trees above his head, wind ruffling the tall yellow grass. The ringing in his ears went down as the rustling of the aspen leaves quieted the anxiety rising in his chest. The sagebrush, warm under the afternoon sun, tempted him down the path. 

Morgana was going to take a nap and chill before dinner, so he had time to explore. He'd spent time in Colorado before, briefly, when he and Morgana were kids. Some family trip he didn't recall the specifics of. But Wyoming seemed a different thing entirely. 

Aspens and pines lined the paths between the cabins, pulling Arthur off the beaten path into their sun dappled shadows. The cabins were clustered around the base of a hill, curving gently to hide most of the barn from view. 

A group of horses stood in the corral next to the weathered barn, swishing their tails. A smaller corral nearby sheltered a brown horse away from the group, happily pulling at a hay pile. Arthur drifted up the split-rail fence and leaned on it, making soft noises and trying to get the lone horse’s attention. Seemed cruel to keep him by himself. 

A throat cleared behind him. Arthur turned around to find Merlin, hands full of leather bridles and an eyebrow raised. 

"He seems lonely," Arthur said, leaning back against the fence. The wood was warm through his t-shirt. 

"Trust me, he'd rather be by himself."

"That's never really true," Arthur said, thinking of a dim and empty apartment, horns drifting up from the street. 

Merlin was looking at him, long and steady.

"Others make him nervous." He turned and continued towards the barn. 

"The horse or you?" 

Merlin snorted."That's just the effect you have." 

Arthur laughed in spite of himself. "So are you saying I make you nervous?" 

Merlin muttered something about that not being what he meant as he walked away. Arthur gave the brown horse—who seemed calm enough to him—another glance before heading back toward his cabin.

When Arthur got back to his cabin Morgana was spread out on his bed, her feet hanging off the side and cell phone above her face. 

"Thought you were never coming back." 

"Can't leave you alone for too long, who knows what you'd set on fire." 

Morgana sat up. 

"Where were you?" 

Arthur shrugged as he settled at the table and booted up his laptop. "Just wandering around." 

"Don't you want to know how I got into your cabin." 

"No, Morgana," Arthur said, opening his email, "I'm perfectly aware of how." 

He didn't have to look at his sister to know she was pouting. He grimaced at the lengthy email his father had forwarded to him, asking him to handle a complaint. 

"I do, however, want to know how you got your lock picks through airport security." 

Morgana's eyes sparkled as she joined him at the table. She grinned and didn't answer. Her smile vanished when she leaned over his shoulder. 

“Are you working?” 

Arthur batted Morgana’s hands away from the laptop. 

“You’re supposed to be on vacation!” 

“Yeah, well, Dad’s still emailing, so how much of a vacation is it?” 

“Maybe that’s because you refuse to tell him to fuck off and take a break.” 

Arthur clenched his fists in the air in lieu of actually hitting something. “I’m fine, Morgana!” 

“You almost punched someone at the airport because you’re wound so tight!” 

“That’s not…. I didn’t. That’s not why I tried to punch him!” 

“Oh really?” Morgana’s eyebrow was back. 

“He called you a slut!” 

“And if I had wanted to do something about that, I would have.” 

Morgana was giving him the cold stare that precipitated someone’s life getting significantly harder. Arthur knew when to back down from a fight. He held his hands up, resisting the urge to throw his laptop at his sister while his throat closed up. For a moment, the crashing emotions felt like they'd ripped gravity out from under him. Taking a deep breath to settle himself (damn Morgana for dragging him to yoga class half a dozen times), he refocused on replying to the email with things Uther would actually want to know. Things that certainly didn't include his son's increasingly conflicted emotions regarding his father. 

He kept his focus squarely on the laptop until Morgana announced it was time for dinner and snapped it shut, Arthur jerking his fingers away from the closing lid. 

____________________

Arthur found himself back at the corral. He was restless. Morgana had already gone to bed and the moonlight wouldn't let him sleep, or so he halfheartedly told himself. He’d pulled on a jacket and found his way back to the barn. The horse from earlier was still in solitary confinement. The rest of the horses appeared to be sleeping, but the brown one was munching at stray bits of grass poking through the fence.

Arthur stood next to the fence for several long moments. The brown horse slowly stopped eating and looked up, ears flicking back and forth. 

"I don't know, you seem at least a little lonely to me," Arthur said softly. 

The horse kept staring at him. Arthur slowly moved to the fence. The horse stayed still, looking at him with what Arthur felt was a quiet, assured gaze. He continued to move slowly, placing his hands on the rough wooden fence and hoisting his weight up enough to put his right foot on the bottom rail. Still no movement from the horse. Arthur continued, swinging his left leg up and over the top rail. He straddled the fence for a few moments, talking to the brown horse all the while before finally letting himself softly down into the corral. 

Arthur reached out a hand, entranced. 

"What are you doing?" someone behind him hissed. 

"Having a bonding moment with a horse," Arthur snapped back, voice just a little louder than the annoyance behind him. 

"You need to, slowly, get out of there." The familiar voice sounded strained. Merlin? The thought alone irritated Arthur. He didn't move. 

"It's fine," he said, too loud and too harsh. Something in the horse snapped. Arthur could see it in the creature's eyes. The horse reared up. Arthur stumbled back, loosing his footing in an attempt to get out of the way of the hoofs coming back down. 

Someone grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt and pulled. Hoofs planted right where Arthur had been laying, immediately coming back up again. Merlin manhandled him to the gate and shoved him through. Merlin, however, stayed in the pen, both hands raised and speaking softly to the horse for several minutes until it calmed down and shuffled back to its corner. 

Merlin clicked the latch behind him and turned to glare at Arthur, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

"What the hell were you thinking?" 

Arthur struggled to stay calm, his palms sweating as an embarrassed blush made his face hot. 

"It was fine until you came along." 

"You should never get in a corral with a skittish horse you don't know." 

Being lectured by a cowboy, especially this specific cowboy who didn't even look like a real one, did not feel great. Merlin seemed to eschew the button-down shirts the rest of the ranch hands wore, instead going for long sleeved tees and his, frankly, ratty hoodie.

"How was I supposed to know it was skittish?" 

"How about you don't go poking around in the middle of the night!" 

"Sorry." 

He didn't mean it, and Merlin could tell. Merlin pulled his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms. Arthur mirrored him, glaring back until it was clear Merlin wasn’t going to back down either. 

"My bad, I'm going back to bed," Arthur said, both hands up, mirroring Merlin's previous posture with the horse. 

"Have you always been such a prat?" Merlin yelled after him. 

"Takes one to know one," he snapped back. Getting the last word in made him feel better.

Briefly.

*


	2. Hot Blooded Wonders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yellowstone is gorgeous and Merlin would enjoy it more if Arthur wasn’t around and being a dumbass.

Someone—probably Gwaine—had left one of the bridles hanging over the fence. Merlin picked at the leather, wondering if he could get away with just taking care of it tomorrow. It’d been a nice fall evening, but the incident with Arthur had left a bad taste in his mouth. Sighing, he heaved the tack off the fence and took it into the barn. 

His intention to stay the fuck away from that gorgeous jackass from back east had lasted less than six hours. And it wasn’t even his fault. 

The moon was up, bathing everything in a bright light reminiscent of midday. He crept into the house, not wanting to disturb anyone. White on the front desk caught his eye—a folded stack of sheets. Shit. The early check in tomorrow, and Gwen had already left for her day off. Merlin planted his hands on his hips, letting out a breath, and then made a face more akin to a vicious workout than the monumental task of making up a bed at ten-thirty at night. There was no rest for the weary. Merlin was perfectly aware as he fished the correct key out of the cabinet and made his way down the path he was being dramatic. Drama was his coping mechanism, even if it annoyed the shit out of his friends. Drama and sarcasm were perfectly healthy things, thank you very much. 

He would have thought, being this tired, his only focus would be on the task at hand. But no, his mind went wandering to everything else that was far easier to ignore in the daytime. The pressing questions of life—such as what he was going to do with his—were specters that refused to be ignored in the dark. 

Merlin didn’t want to be here, exactly. It had just been the only offer left on the table after he graduated. Who knew getting a literature degree would limit his job opportunities. Well, Will knew. And his mother, even if she was kinder about it. What he’d never told either of them was he’d had other job offers, or at least opportunities. Friends offered to help him get his foot in the door with their firms, who just cared he had a degree and not what in. But all of those options had seemed as suffocating as the idea of moving back to his mom’s house. 

So here he was. Chasing away ghosts in the night with a fitted sheet. 

Guest cabin set to rights, Merlin was staggering back to the ranch house, with just enough awareness to make sure the screen door didn’t slam. He did briefly wonder why the light was on in Gaius’s office. 

“Oh, Merlin! A word.” 

Merlin groaned and resisted banging his head on the banister to avoid any further conversations at this point. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? I thought rest got even more important with age.” 

Gaius didn’t seem to enjoy his greeting. He merely glared at his nephew before continuing. 

“I need you to help with the Yellowstone day trip tomorrow. We miscounted on the list, I just need you to drive the Explorer, Leon and Gwen will take the van like normal.” 

Merlin stared at Gaius, his tired brain piecing together what he’d said. Yellowstone. Yellowstone was fine. But Yellowstone with tourists—with Arthur—sounded like more complication than his life needed. 

“Can’t someone else do it? I’ll trade Gwaine for cleaning out the barn if it—” 

“Merlin.” 

He knew that tone, he’d been hearing it since he was a child—always accompanied with That Thing Gaius’s Eyebrows Does. None of which stopped Merlin from sighing in resignation and making a face as he backed out of the doorway. 

“Fine.” 

____________________

Far too early the next morning, Merlin was huddled down in his jacket and contemplating how the same hour of day when spent in hidden seclusion watching the sunrise was delightful, but getting dragged out of bed this early to herd tourists around a national park was altogether torturous. There was coffee and a platter of breakfast items balanced on the railing of the porch, there for the guests, but Merlin helped himself. 

“Merlin?” 

Merlin took the donut out of his mouth. “Yeah?” 

“Have you seen Arthur and Morgana?” 

He took a long, sweeping look around the driveway. “Nope.” 

Gwen socked his arm. “Go get them.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes, but headed for the cabins, snagging a bag of mini pretzels out of the snacks-for-the-drive box on his way. 

The end of the gravel path left Merlin with a choice, and it was far too early for this level of thinking. Morgana seemed like less of a morning person than her brother, and where Arthur had no qualms about making his displeasure for someone known, Morgana struck Merlin as likely to be truly terrifying when pissed off. The insidious, likely to find snakes in your bed, kind of terrifying. On the other hand, knocking on Arthur's door included the possibility of seeing him sleepy and in a comfortable old t-shirt.

He promptly spun towards Morgana's cabin. 

“Hello?” he pounded on the door. 

Morgana poked her head out of Arthur’s cabin. “Merlin,” she hissed. 

“What?” he fake-whispered back.

"I need you to wake Arthur up." 

"Why me? He's your brother," Merlin said, still not-whispering as he made his way up the stairs.

“I’m not waking him up, the first black eye I ever got was trying to wake Arthur up for school.” 

Merlin desperately wanted to ask about the second, but he couldn’t imagine Morgana would take that well. 

"Besides. He likes to sleep shirtless, and who needs to see that first thing in the morning?" 

The thought made Merlin’s mouth go dry.

"Arthur! Time to rise and shine!" he yelled, as loud as he could muster. 

Nothing. 

Morgana crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. 

"He's a heavy sleeper." 

"No kidding," Merlin muttered, brushing past Morgana. 

"And he doesn't enjoy waking up." 

"And here I thought black eyes were a way of showing love." 

He heard Morgana laugh, but he was too busy dreading the lump under the quilt to appreciate it. 

"Arthur?" 

Maybe if he stayed out of Arthur's reach, it would be fine. 

"Time to wake up," he continued, opening the curtains to let in what little light was filtering over the hill. 

There might have been some muttering under the covers. Or it could have been Merlin’s hopeful imagination. Merlin stood next to the window, hands in his pockets. The room was silent except for the ticking of Arthur’s watch on the nightstand. 

Well fine then, they’d do this the hard way. 

Merlin retrieved a glass from the bathroom and filled it with ice-cold water. He was standing beside the bed, about to tip it over on Arthur, when he looked down and found Arthur awake. And relaxed—looking at him like Merlin being in his room was the most natural thing in the world. Merlin was transfixed by Arthur’s face. He kept looking at Merlin for a long minute, quiet and trusting, before it appeared to dawn on him Merlin was not supposed to be in the room. 

“Merlin?” 

“Hmmm.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh, waking you up. Time to rise and shine, sunshine.” Merlin mentally cringed at using his mother’s saying to get him out of bed as a child. Arthur didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to mind anything—until he noticed the glass of water in Merlin’s hand. 

“With that?” 

Now this, outrage and condescension, was what he expected from Arthur. 

“Well someone didn’t want to get up.” 

“So you were just going to pour cold water on me?” 

“What was I supposed to do? Waking a dead person would be easier!” 

“That,” Arthur said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “Cannot be true.” 

Merlin tried not to get distracted by Arthur’s shoulders in that worn gray t-shirt with faded lettering, forcing himself to focus on Arthur’s face—because that definitely better as Arthur’s intense blue eyes bored into him. He mentally slapped himself. 

“Oh I’m pretty sure it’s—” 

“Glad to see you’re awake,” Morgana said, stepping inside the cabin. 

“Why are we up so early?” 

“Yellowstone.” 

“What?” 

Merlin hightailed it out of the cabin, the rest of the conversation of little interest to him. It’d been an interesting experience, all told. Definitely informative. Conclusion, Arthur was a jackass before he’d had his coffee.

After coffee? Also a jackass—but Merlin knew that already. 

Given the entire exchange, Merlin was a bit surprised when Arthur shuffled himself into the backseat of the Explorer—must have missed the whole other, larger vehicle that people were piling into. The rest of the group comprised a rather talkative girl from Seattle and one half of a honeymooning couple from Colorado. 

The girl quieted down as she started eating the lemon-poppyseed muffin in her hand, and whatever cowboy music CD Leon had shoved into the Explorer filled the quiet. Merlin glanced back, catching a glimpse of Arthur’s face in the rearview mirror. Wonder spread across it as he took in the landscape rolling past them. A grin echoed on his own. Living here and seeing all of this day in and day out, he sometimes forgot how lucky he was. 

Pulling into the sprawling parking lots at Old Faithful, Merlin parked next to the van. Leon was already herding guests together and talking about the plan for the morning. Merlin drifted to the side, focused on a group of ravens holding their own morning meeting near a lamppost. This was one of his favorite parts of coming up here. The massive birds congregated in the parking lots, waiting for the remnants of picnics. He crouched down, digging out the pretzels from his pocket. 

“Is that… a raven?” 

Merlin blinked up at the sun, seeing a shimmer of blonde hair. 

“They’re huge,” Arthur said, voice quiet and reverent as he bent down next to Merlin. 

“That’s one thing I missed the most living back east. The ravens were the wrong size.” 

“You lived on the east coast?” 

Everyone was always so surprised he’d set foot outside of Wyoming. 

“I went to school back there,” Merlin said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible and hoping Arthur wouldn’t ask follow-up questions. A raven chose that moment to take off, coming close to smacking Arthur in the face with a giant black wing. Arthur spluttered, almost losing his balance. 

“Well, you don’t want to miss Old Faithful going off,” Merlin said, getting to his feet and laughing. “And I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be with the group.” 

Arthur shrugged. “I’m with you, doesn’t that count?” 

“You’re going to mess with Gwen’s system. She hates it when people do that.” 

“Well, I’ll just have to be extra charming the next time I see her then,” Arthur said, flashing a smile that Merlin couldn’t deny was a little on the charming side. 

“Come on, Casanova.” 

“It all seems…. a little over-hyped,” Arthur said, as they walked past the gift store and one of the restaurants to the wide boardwalk filled with benches in a half-circle around the geyser—which at the moment was just a hole in the ground, billowing steam into the cold morning air. 

“You’ve never seen a geyser before.” 

They crowded in around the edge, Merlin drifting all the way to the end. He grinned to himself as Arthur shifted his weight back and forth, clearly unsure of what they were waiting for. 

“When is something supposed to happen?” 

Merlin looked at his watch, “Oh, now.” 

As he said it, a column of water burst from the ground, rushing towards the sky. The tall plume stayed for a couple minutes, falling and rising again to its pinnacle as steam drifting off the boiling water toward the background of pine trees. Eventually, the water lowered back to a bubbling heap at the surface before disappearing again under ground. Merlin took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp morning air and was contemplating the mist coming off the river, counting all the places that looked like smoke, when Arthur interrupted. 

“What’s next on the private tour?” 

Merlin’s shoulders stiffened as his smile disappeared. 

Arthur’s face fell. “I didn’t mean it like, I just…. this is nice, that’s all.” 

Merlin tried to hide his returning smile. Maybe the man was human after all. “I usually wander around while the group goes on the ranger-guided tour. You can come, if you want.” 

“Can’t imagine what I’d learn from a park ranger—don’t they normally do kids’ presentations?” 

Merlin laughed. “I’ve been hearing that stuff since I was a kid, but you might learn something.” 

“Oh, I think I’ve got this figured out,” Arthur said, with a grin. 

Most visitors to Old Faithful saw the famous geyser, wandered about the gift shop, looked at the old lodge that had been there for over a hundred years, and then moved on—missing the other geysers and hot springs surrounding the area. It was a geyser basin, Merlin explained to Arthur, one of many in the park. You didn’t get a lonesome geyser—they came in groups. “Norris Basin is my favorite, there’s some interesting ones there, but it’s up at the west entrance, so for the ranch groups we stick to Old Faithful, and just give people plenty of time to explore things.” 

Arthur nodded like he wasn’t listening, but Merlin wasn’t offended. The pools with their brightly colored algae were intriguing. Otherworldly—or so he’d been told. Watching Arthur’s face was almost like seeing it through his eyes, fresh and exciting. Not something he’d seen for the millionth time and was yet again guiding a tourist through. They’d crossed the river and were headed up a gentle slope when something moved just off the trail. 

“Geez, bit dramatic with the warnings, aren’t they?” Arthur said, pointing at a sign depicting a hapless tourist stepping off the boardwalk and falling through the earth. 

“Some warnings are there for a reason, Arthur,” Merlin deadpanned, still trying to figure out what was in the trees. 

“Seriously?” Arthur hurried to keep up with Merlin, still gawking at the multi-colored pools. 

“There’s underground vats spewing scorching water up, did you think the ground was stable?” 

Merlin stopped as a bison lumbered into view, fully blocking the path. Arthur finally noticed what Merlin was staring at. “Oh wow, they must be pretty used to people to get this close.” 

A couple more bison joined the first one—standing in the middle of the path the boardwalk melted into, grazing contentedly and ignoring Merlin and Arthur. Or Merlin, who was hanging back and debating between turning around or waiting. 

And then there was Arthur. Who was walking straight towards the wild animals. 

“Arthur,” Merlin hissed. 

Arthur winked and kept creeping closer to the bison, hand held out like he could tame it. Like it was someone’s dog in Central Park. 

“Arthur! Get back here!” Merlin tried again, not getting any response from Arthur. 

Arthur was within touching distance when a park ranger brushed past Merlin, came up behind Arthur, and yanked him back by his shirt. He didn’t let go until he’d hauled Arthur back down the path. The bison had raised its head at the ranger’s sudden movement, but went back to grazing as the ranger planted Arthur several yards down the trail. 

“What were you thinking? Those are wild animals more than capable of killing you,” the ranger said. 

“I—” Arthur didn’t get a full word out before the ranger cut him off, still going with the lecture. Merlin stood to the side, arms folded, as the park ranger gave Arthur a thorough tongue lashing. 

Arthur stared at the ranger as he walked away, hands shoved in his pocket. The ranger was herding his group—which just so happened to include a few people they knew—back down the path in the other direction, while talking into his radio and asking for someone else to come up and block the path off until the bison moved on. 

“Well he seemed upset,” Arthur joked, smile not quite reaching his eyes. 

There was cold fury spreading through Merlin’s bones—welling up from the lump in his throat. “I told you, they’re wild animals, you can’t treat them like that.” 

Morgana had hung back when the group started down the trail and was now glaring at Arthur, starting to say something. Merlin left Arthur to her. He eventually found himself back in the parking lot, sitting on one of the picnic tables near the Explorer. A raven fluttered down next to him, cocking its head. 

“Oh don’t start, he’s not that good-looking. And he’s a prat to boot.” 

The bird just stared. 

“I mean really a prat, like the man’s entire personality is self-entitled moron.” 

The raven squawked, sounding to Merlin like a protest. Merlin glanced up to see the group filtering back to the cars. And Arthur just far enough away he may not have heard. 

And if he did, well, good. 

Arthur squeezed himself into the van with Morgana, another face taking his place in the backseat of the Explorer, and Merlin spent the rest of the day carefully avoiding him. Hanging back by the vehicles until the group was well down the trail, or into the visitor center, and then walking in the opposite direction. 

The last stop of the day was always Artist’s Point. Merlin had been dreading it. This was usually one of his favorite stops of the day, but there really wasn’t room for “just walk the other way” on the sharply contained viewing platform. The view of the waterfall, streaming between two steep canyon walls painted red with sediment, never disappointed guests. They crowded around the stone wall built around the edge, remarking to each other and trying to get enough of a break in the flow of people to get a decent picture. Merlin, who had been here a hundred times, always found himself admiring the magnificent view, catching a glimpse of a rainbow in the far-off shimmer of the falls, as the last sunlight seeped into the canyon. The waterfall wasn’t the only thing shimmering in the fading light. Arthur was laughing with Morgana at something, and the sparkle in his eyes had nothing to do with the sunset. 

Merlin shook himself loose, choosing instead to focus on how nice it was in the cool September air. While there were still plenty of people around, it was not nearly as many as the last time Gaius had roped him into this. July was not the time to come to Yellowstone. 

He stole one more glance back at Arthur. At least he’d known what to expect in the mid-summer heat.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t pet the bison kids.


	3. Horses and Hubris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really, if Arthur would just listen to Merlin for five minutes, they’d have fewer problems. But that would be less fun. Or so Arthur tells himself.

In the morning, Arthur rolled out of bed to find a slight chill in the air. Just enough he could feel fall turning in his bones. Ironic though it might be, he'd always associated fall with new beginnings, probably thanks to the fresh chances of every new school year. Everything always seemed bright and clean and new in the fall. Anything that was wrong could be righted when the leaves began to turn.   
  
Stepping outside to wait for Morgana, Arthur found the bluest sky he'd ever seen. Not a cloud to be seen, and the shade of the sky was something he'd only read about in children's books. Aspen trees with golden leaves cut into the blue, and the smell of the pines wafted through the crisp air.   
  
Morgana stumbled out of her cabin, griping about the cold.   
  
"It's only September, why is it actually cold?" she muttered as they made their way to the main house.   
  
Arthur took a deep breath.   
  
"Isn't it wonderful?" he grinned at his sister, fully expecting the shove it got him.   
  
She took off running for the house and Arthur chased her down, forgetting for a moment they were in their twenties now and all this was far from being appropriate anymore. He could hear the ghost of his father's lecture when he graduated, about buckling down to get ready and take over the company. Taking the stairs two at a time, Arthur nearly caught up to Morgana, catching the screen door as she let it swing shut behind her.   
  
Morgana was halfway through a buffet-style serving line, heaping her plate with scrambled eggs and bacon when Arthur entered the sunny dining room and kitchen area. The whole area smelled delightfully of breakfast, but even more strongly—and delightfully—of coffee. One of the ranch hands floating around the room noticed him skipping the food and following his nose.   
  
"Coffee's on the stove," the man said, flipping a mop of dark brown hair out of his eyes, "Let me get you a cup, you haven't had real coffee until you've had cowboy coffee."   
  
"Oh really, and what makes it so special?" Arthur asked, following the cowboy over to a percolator on the stove.   
  
"Boiled," the cowboy grinned, "Only way to have it."   
  
He handed Arthur a mug and Arthur cradled the coffee mug in his hand for a second before drinking. It was one of those heavy ceramic styles that only appear on tables in diners. Taking a sip of it, he was surprised. It was lighter, verging on watery, but with a full rich taste that didn't match his French press at all. He looked up to see the cowboy looking at him.   
  
"Pretty good, isn't?" the wrangler said.   
  
Arthur smiled. "Not bad at all."   
  
The cowboy cracked a grin at Arthur as he filled his own mug. Someone moved into the room, right at the edge of Arthur's vision. He didn't have to turn to see who that shock of unruly black hair belonged to. He'd be okay if he didn't see those ridiculous ears the rest of this trip. Merlin didn't seem to share his aversion. 

He walked straight across the room to Arthur. And then ignored him in favor of the coffeepot. 

"Gwaine." Merlin nodded at the cowboy standing with Arthur and stood contemplating something very deep in his coffee mug.   
  
"What's got your panties in a twist?" Gwaine clapped Merlin on the shoulder.   
  
"Nothing." Merlin shrugged Gwaine's arm off.

Arthur sat down next to Morgana, feeling like an intrusion at the coffeepot, and waited for the line to thin out at the food.   
  
"What? Not hungry?” Morgana asked, "That's very unlike you Arthur. I'm pretty sure half your paycheck goes to groceries. "  
  
"Are you calling me fat?" Arthur ribbed back, watching Merlin and Gwaine move through the serving line. Merlin was back to smiling a little.   
  
"Oh, don't tell me you're too flustered to eat?" Morgana teased.   
  
"What?" He asked, before realizing Morgana was following his gaze, "No, of course not."   
  
Arthur got up and grabbed a plate at the beginning of the line before Morgana could say anything else. Which did nothing to stop her from grinning and making faces at him all the way down the serving line.   
  
After breakfast, he and Morgana lingered at the table with coffee cups. They were continuing a conversation from yesterday about the financial viability of dude ranching, under protest from Morgana.   
  
"Honestly, Arthur, this is supposed to be at least partly vacation." 

They were interrupted by the cute girl from the check-in desk.   
  
"Good morning!" Gwen said, sliding into the seat across from Arthur and Morgana.   
  
"Good morning, Gwen," Morgana said, mirroring her chipper tone.  
  
Arthur side-eyed his sister to see if she was still indeed his sister. Who was this overly nice to everyone body-snatched version? While Morgana was certainly capable of kindness, she didn't usually go over the top like this. Maybe this was how Morgana managed to make investors do what she wanted, Arthur mused, running his finger around the rim of his mug. Nope, too many people who were just plain scared of her for that to be the case. Morgana elbowed him out of his thoughts.   
  
"Arthur? Are you paying attention?"  
  
"No, sorry, got lost in my thoughts. "   
  
Gwen returned his smile and shook her head.   
  
"Gwen set up a horseback ride for us. Doesn't that sound like fun?"  
  
It did actually.  
  
"Sure."   
  
"Great, you leave in an hour. Just meet the trail guide at the front of the barn."   
  
"Thank you, Gwen," Morgana said, as Gwen got up. She waved as she headed back to her job.   
  
"Well, this should be fun," Morgana wagged her eyebrows at Arthur as they put their coffee cups in the sink and headed out the door.   
  
Stepping outside, Arthur took another deep breath. The crisp air was a blissful change from New York, where the stifling summer heat had decided to cling on for another month. The leaves on the aspen tree outside the door were starting to change, brilliant yellow creeping in on the edges.   
  
After getting ready for the day, Arthur and Morgana headed down towards the barn. Arthur turned the corner to see....No. He steeled himself to keep walking.   
  
Merlin was saddling the horses. Merlin was the one leading the trail ride. He also picked that moment to look up and make eye contact with Arthur. Something ghosted over Merlin's face so fast Arthur couldn't catch it. Then he was turning back to the horse he was saddling. Merlin didn't directly look at or address Arthur as he finished with the horses and started talking to the group. He ended his little spiel with, "The horse knows what to do, just let it do it."   
  
"So are you saying that the horse is smarter than you and we don't really need you?" Arthur grinned.   
  
Merlin rolled his eyes.   
  
The first half of the trail ride went smoothly. The views were gorgeous, and Arthur found the rhythm of the horse and the scent of the sagebrush cleansing. He took deep, rolling breaths. The world, his mind, and everything falling away. The horses stayed in a line, pretty focused on the backside of the horse in front of them. Coming up to a clearing where the path widened out, Arthur tugged on the reigns of his horse. It turned in the opposite direction than he expected, but did break rank and jog next to the horse in front of him.   
  
Morgana, occupying the next horse gave him a confused look. Arthur winked at her. And kicked the horse in the sides.   
  
Which did have the exact result Arthur wanted, it went bolting towards the front of the pack. Arthur heard Merlin yelling something as he flew past. When Arthur tried to pull up on the reins, he realized he had a bit of a problem.   
  
He yanked back hard on the reins, but something was wrong—the horse just kept going, its head slightly turned around, but still going at full gallop. Arthur ducked under a fast approaching tree branch. The horse continued towards what Arthur vaguely registered as some sort of drop. His heart jumped into his throat and he tugged at the reins again. No response.   
  
A gloved hand reached out, grabbing the reins from Arthur and managing to bring them both to a full stop a few feet from a nasty looking drop-off.   
  
Merlin looked pissed.   
  
"I'm about to make you get off and walk back to the ranch."   
  
"I'm fine, thanks for asking."   
  
Merlin's arm flinched and Arthur had a flash of memories. All relating to bars and moments when he chose not to keep his mouth shut. Sometimes for the right reason and sometimes really, really not.   
  
This was about to be one of those times when he should have shut up and didn't.   
  
"You know what Merlin? I'm really tired of you constantly acting like you're better than me."   
  
"I'm not, you clotpole. I just know when to listen to other people." Merlin still hadn't let go of the reins on Arthur's horse as he guided both horses back towards the group.   
  
"Clotpole?"   
  
"Clotpole," Merlin repeated, leveling his glare right at Arthur before going back to the brush in front of them.   
  
"I don't think that's a word."  
  
A songbird Arthur didn't recognize was singing. Merlin didn't respond.   
  
"Are you going to lead me all the way back to the ranch?"   
  
"Yes," Merlin snapped.   
  
And he did. Without saying another word to Arthur, Merlin finished the trail ride. The hour back to the ranch was one of the longest of Arthur's life. Despite his best efforts to focus on the natural beauty surrounding him, the waves of awkwardness between him and Merlin were distracting. They stopped at another overlook, the ranch nestled in the valley below them, and Merlin unceremoniously dropped the reins in Arthur's lap.   
  
"The horse knows what to do," he said, with a murderous glare.   
  
Arthur didn't say anything, didn't touch the reins. The other horses started filing in behind Merlin's back down the trail, his own not moving. For a second Arthur thought he was either going to have to touch the reins and risk Merlin's wrath or just stay here forever. That latter option was appealing.   
  
His horse swished its tail and dropped in behind, last in line, right behind Morgana's horse. Morgana got up a stream of snarky commentary about the other riders over her shoulder to Arthur for a while, before her cell phone of all things distracted her.   
  
"Really, Morgana? Who's more interesting than all this?" he said with a sweeping hand and no heart.   
  
Morgana turned around to smirk at him and didn't answer.   
  
The whole thing left a twisting, gnawing ball in Arthur's stomach. His horse plotted along at the end of the line, head down and focused on the rump of the horse in front of him. Morgana was enthralled in her own thoughts and seemed to be tired of craning her neck to talk to Arthur.   
  
Which left Arthur alone with his thoughts and it was not a place he wanted to be right now. A sneaking suspicion lurked at the edge of his mind. That perhaps he'd been letting the pressure from his dad get to him. And maybe some of his not so brilliant traits had come out when he'd first met Merlin. Unfortunately, if there was one thing Arthur was good at, it was stubbornly clinging to his actions long past the point he knew he was being an ass.   
  
When they got back to the ranch, Gwaine was out to meet them. He and Merlin took the reins of the horses from the dismounting guests and looped them around the fence. Arthur slid off his horse and handed the reins to Merlin. Merlin's gaze didn't stay on him for more than a second.   
  
Arthur hung around until almost everyone else had floated away.  
  
"Do you guys need help with anything?" Arthur asked. It was a stupid question and he knew it.   
  
Gwaine stopped and looked at him. Before looking at Merlin and then back at Arthur. Merlin was focused on what his hands were doing with the intensity of a rocket scientist doing vector calculations.   
  
"I think we're good, man. After all, it is our job," Gwaine grinned at Arthur.   
  
Arthur returned it, his face feeling hollow. Morgana linked her arm through her brother's. Arthur shook her off.   
  
"Arthur, let's get out of their way" she said, flashing Gwaine a smile. The kind of set in stone, business woman smile that made Arthur feel at ease. This was the Morgana he knew, the Morgana he understood. Even if she was little on the harsh side—and he didn't always agree with her methods—he understood her.   
  
"Yeah, sure," Arthur was already several steps down the path.   
  
"Geez, Arthur. Really managed to offend Merlin, didn't you?" Morgana said, struggling a little to keep up with him.   
  
Arthur snorted.   
  
"I don't think offended is the right word for how Merlin feels about me."   
  
"Oh? Noticed he's smitten, then?"   
  
"What? No. He hates me."   
  
Morgana just smirked at him. Arthur stuck his tongue out at her, which sent her into a laughing fit.   
  
"What are you? Twelve?" 

His phone chimed, Arthur stopping to dig it out of his pocket. 

“I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” he said, grimacing at who the text was from. Morgana glanced between him and the phone. 

“Okay. Arthur?” 

He hummed, a little confused at what his father had sent him. 

“Remember you’re on vacation, you don’t have to do whatever it is he wants now.” 

Arthur met Morgana’s gaze. “You and I both know that’s not true.” 

Morgana pursed her lips together, and headed towards the cabins. They’d had that argument too many times for anything new or useful to come out of it. 

_While you’re out there, I need you to do some market research on property. Values, uses, focus on commercial use._

Arthur squinted at the text, as if that would somehow translate the words into something less garbled by his middle-age father’s misunderstanding of technology. Uther’s tone didn’t carry through the electronic words, but Arthur could still feel his throat constricting. 

____________________

The next morning, Arthur and Morgana were standing in front of Gwen, who was currently chewing on her bottom lip. And everyone had awkwardness etched into their bones. Arthur had just asked about transportation into town and Gwen had stumbled over herself while explaining that the ranch didn't provide that. If guests wanted to leave the ranch to explore the area during their stay, they usually rented a car. Assuming they had flown in to begin with.

“We get a lot of regional tourists,” Gwen said.   
  
"Oh, um." Arthur shifted his weight from his right foot to his left foot and back to his right. He hated moments like this. Moments that made him feel like a rich brat who couldn't take care of himself and expected miles above everyone else just because his father had money. They made him feel like a total...clotpole.   
  
"That was a misunderstanding on our part, used to some different services in the city." Morgana swooped in and saved the day. Coming from her, with that smile, she made it sound like a foreign tourist making an adorable mistake. If Arthur had said the exact same thing, he would have sounded rude and arrogant.   
  
"Any ideas? Maybe we could get a ride back to the airport and rent a car," Morgana was still using that tinkling laugh and clear, sunny voice. The light and bright version of her getting what she wanted. Charm first, threaten second. Come to think of it, Morgana had yet to threaten anyone on this entire trip. Arthur should make a mental note to call Guinness World Records. Or a doctor. Maybe that’s why his father had insisted on a vacation for the both of them, his sister was clearly dying.   
  
Gaius, who Arthur had caught glimpses of maybe twice since they arrived, choose that moment to wander past, asking Gwen what was going on. Gwen gave a nervous glance at Arthur as she again stumbled over her words a little. The awkwardness alone was going to kill him.   
  
"Well.” Gaius was frowning, or at least looked like he was frowning. “I could have Merlin take you around while you're here. He won't mind, he loves playing tour guide."   
  
Oh great. Merlin. Fantastic.   
  
"That would be fantastic," Morgana seemed to have plucked that word, entirely out of context, from Arthur's thoughts, "Just add whatever you think is fair to our bill."  
  
Gaius waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, he's here to help out wherever he's needed." He walked over to the bottom of the staircase.   
  
"Merlin!"  
  
No answer.   
  
"Gwen, where is Merlin?"   
  
"Um."   
  
"Merlin!"  
  
Merlin popped in from the kitchen, drying his hands.   
  
"What's up?"  
  
"Arthur and Morgana need someone to give them a ride into town. Congratulations, you get to be a tour guide again."   
  
Merlin's eyebrows shot up. 

“Uh, Gaius….?”   
  
Merlin glanced between Arthur and Morgana and didn't say anything else.   
  
"Oh, I'm sure you have time, Merlin," Gaius said, "Beside, these sorts of things are in your job description."   
  
Merlin set his mouth in a grim line and nodded. Gaius patted him on the back and walked away. Merlin forced a smile back on his face.   
  
"Well? Shall we?"   
  
"What is your job description, Merlin?" Arthur asked as Merlin walked past him, "Because whatever it is, you seem rather bad at it."   
  
"Ha, ha. This way your highness, your carriage awaits."   
  
Whatever reservation or annoyance Merlin had about "playing tour guide," it didn't show as he happily chatted away with Morgana in the front seat, telling her all about the history of the area and local culture. Merlin's eyes were sparkling in the rearview mirror as he talked about the history of the area. Arthur didn't realize he was smiling softly until Morgana turned to say something to him and furrowed her brow. Arthur wiped the smile off his face, but Morgana seemed to have lost her train of thought.   
  
"….first all female city council. In the 1920s."   
  
Morgana laughed.   
  
"Sounds like your kind of town," Arthur joked.   
  
Still out in the middle of nowhere, Merlin pulled off into a turnout.   
  
"So Arthur can get a good look without putting a kink in his neck," Merlin said.   
  
Arthur rolled his eyes as he got out.   
  
The view was breathtaking. Just as breathtaking as stepping off the plane. It wasn't just the altitude that made it hard to breathe here. The Tetons towered up from the mountain floor, white caps glistening already above the fall foliage around the base.   
  
"Here, you want me to take pictures for you guys?"   
  
Arthur's shoulders crept up towards his ears. He hated taking pictures. Morgana tossed her phone to Merlin and slipped right into an Instagram perfect pose. That was one of the reasons Arthur hated taking pictures. He could never figure out what to do with his hands.   
  
Merlin handed Morgana her phone back and turned to Arthur.   
  
"No."   
  
"Oh come, Arthur, I'm not that incompetent. It's point and shoot."   
  
Morgana handed Merlin Arthur's phone. Arthur patted his pockets and glared at his sister.   
  
“Arthur, normal people smile in pictures,” Morgana said sweetly.   
  
Arthur did love how the picture turned out in the end. The wind was blowing his hair half into his face, but he looked relaxed. Rugged. Happy. The weight of everything he hadn't been thinking about came crashing back down on him and for a second it felt like the world was entirely too small and too large all at once. His lungs had dents and his skin would never stop itching. He rubbed his arm, catching Merlin looking at him. Studying him. Merlin opened his mouth but Arthur beat him to it.   
  
"So, tour guide, what's next?"   
  
Coming down a slight hill and a bend, a town sprawled out in front of them, bigger than Arthur had expected. There was even a Dairy Queen. Merlin laughed when Arthur pointed it out and told him there was also a McDonald's.   
  
The downtown area, "the square" as Merlin informed them, was busy. Merlin circled around the park in the middle of town, looking for a parking spot. He waited while a car pulled out of the spot and squeezed into the parallel spot as the green Subaru with Colorado plates headed down the street. Arthur and Morgana got out, while Merlin locked the car and headed straight for a bench.   
  
"You guys feel free to wander around and let me know when you want to head back or go somewhere else."   
  
"Thanks, Merlin," Morgana said, pulling Arthur to the right.   
  
"What do you think he's going to do while he waits?"  
  
Morgana craned her neck to look back at Merlin. “I think he’s already asleep.”   
  
Most of the buildings surrounding the square leaned a little too heavily into the Old West theme. Arthur couldn't quite tell if it was authentically just the way the town had always been or if it was kitsch. He had some pretty set ideas about the "Million Dollar Cowboy" bar and its giant, light up cowboy boot of a sign though. Turning down a side street, they stumbled across something very decidedly not cowboy looking. Arthur craned his head up, looking at the building that frankly looked more reminiscent of Tudor England than the Wild West.   
  
"How do you suppose this got here?" he asked Morgana.   
  
"I don't know, but it sure is on the ugly side," Morgana answered, still looking at her phone.   
  
"What are you so interested in?" Arthur asked, gesturing to her phone.   
  
Morgana blushed. Actually, truly, blushed. Red tingeing the tops of her ears and everything.   
  
"Oh," Arthur said, grinning in that teasing manner reserved just for his sister.   
  
"It's not what you think," Morgana snapped, pocketing her phone.   
  
"Oh it's precisely what I think."   
  
Morgana started walking again, refusing to turn around no matter what Arthur said. 

They wandered around the rest of the town square area for a while, in and out of stores—some selling things that definitely were kitsch. Rounding a corner, they ran into a Sotheby's office. Arthur took a look at the listings, trying not to let his jaw drop when he saw the prices.   
  
"Morgana, look at these."   
  
She crowded over his shoulder and whistled.   
  
"Dad was right when he said this place is more expensive than first glance."   
  
"I don't think there's anything on here under a million dollars."   
  
Arthur scanned a few more listings, both for property and stick built houses.   
  
"Wait," Arthur started, then stopped and double-checked.   
  
"What?"  
  
"This is the ranch. The ranch we're staying at."   
  
Morgana's brow furrowed. “It’s odd Dad didn’t mention that, seems like the sort of thing he would be interested in.”   
  
"Maybe he doesn't know?" Arthur offered weakly, his own thoughts turning towards a certain inscrutable text.   
  
When they made it back to the main square, Merlin was still on the same bench they'd left him on. Only now he was slumped down, legs a tripping hazard and hat pulled down over his eyes. Arthur rolled his own.   
  
"Wow, you really are good at your job, huh?" he said, kicking at Merlin's foot.   
  
"What else was I supposed to do?" Merlin muttered, straightening up slightly.   
  
"I think we've seen it all," Arthur commented dryly.   
  
Merlin snorted.   
  
"You'd be surprised at the secrets this place keeps."   
  
Morgana raised an eyebrow at Arthur as Merlin walked back towards the car without any further explanation. Arthur shrugged, sharing his sister’s confused look. 

*


	4. Canyons Run Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As much as Arthur is starting to take over Merlin's life, he isn't the only thing causing Merlin stress. Great.

Merlin was thoroughly convinced there wasn’t enough coffee in the world. His world definitely needed to contain more, he mused, staring morosely into the bleak, hollow mug in front of him. 

“You do realize there’s more on the stove, right?” Gwaine snickered behind his own mug. 

“Yeah, yeah, let me have my moment,” Merlin said, getting up to retrieve said coffee. Gwen batted him away from the stove, claiming they needed to have coffee ready for the guests, but Merlin managed to wrangle away half a cup of the sweet nectar. 

“What were you up to this morning, anyway? You look like you didn’t sleep at all.” Gwaine asked, in that faux-casual voice of his. 

“Nothing.” 

“Uh-huh,” Gwaine muttered, around a mouthful of eggs. 

“Oh, Merlin,” Leon interjected, looking sorry already—which usually meant he was about to add yet another task to Merlin’s varied to-do list. 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you get to the rest of the tack? I ran out of time to finish it yesterday.” 

“Sure.” 

“Oh, and Merlin?” Leon called after him. 

Merlin poked his head back into the kitchen. 

“I used the last of the leather conditioner.” 

“Right. Gwen?” 

“New bottle’s at the front desk, along with the repaired bridle Percy brought back last night.” 

“Got it, thanks!” Merlin called over his shoulder. 

It wasn’t his favorite job—that right there made him a bad cowboy, he was supposed to love the feel of leather, apparently—but Leon had thrown him far worse in recent months. Through no fault of Leon’s, no matter how much Merlin tried to poke Gaius into it, the old man refused to put out an ad looking for more help—even for the busy summer months. He grumbled and complained that the college students who answered those took all summer to train anyway. The ranch had managed to become the go-to spot for the more regional tourists who showed up after the summer peak, along with the retirees, after the children had gone back to school. Being busier than ever was good, Lord knew how hard it was to make ends meet (hence the dude ranching at all), but Gaius still muttered to himself and said some version of “no” every time Merlin tried to bring it up. 

His thoughts were too heavy and weighty for a sleep-addled mind, which was why he smacked straight into Arthur on his way out of the house. 

“How have you survived in such a dangerous environment while being so clumsy?” Arthur asked, not quite keeping the grin out of his eyes. 

“Says the man who tried to pet a bison.” 

Arthur winced. “I suppose that wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve done, huh?” 

“I’m sorry, did his royal highness just admit he was wrong about something?” 

“Well if I did, I’m certainly not going to repeat myself.” 

“Hang on, let me get my phone out, I need proof. No one else is ever going to believe me.” Merlin tried to shuffle the bridle and leather conditioner to one hand, grasping for his phone with the other, and ended up dropping the bottle of leather conditioner. Arthur rolled his eyes, bending down to pick it up. He handed it back to Merlin without a word. 

“By the way, are you free sometime later? I need a ride.” 

“Huh?” 

“You know, like before.” 

Merlin blinked, and tried to shake the fog out of his brain. Arthur was asking Merlin to run him back into town. If he was going to go on early morning hikes for the soul-enriching experience of watching the sunrise, he really needed to take a nap before he got on with his day.   
  
"Sometime mid-morning, when you get a chance?"   
  
"Sure, I have a few things to finish up around here. Meet you out front around ten."   
  
Merlin rushed off, hands full of leather conditioner and rags. 

Everyone else seemed to love cleaning tack or reconditioning the saddles. Something about leather and quiet and it being soothing. Merlin might be inclined to agree with them if he didn’t hate the smell of leather conditioner. Two bridles and a saddle later, the only thing Merlin could think about was how much he was gagging on the smell. He put everything away and stood outside, gulping in fresh air until the cool edge to it made his lungs burn. It wasn’t even fully warming up during the day now. It was pleasant enough with a jacket or a long-sleeved shirt, but there was an ever present chill in the air. The warning of the long, harsh winter, something one had to make peace with when it came to living here. 

Gwen rushed past him, barely giving him a smile, headed for one of the guest cabins. 

“Gwen? Everything alright?” Merlin asked, hurrying after her. 

“Fine, it’s fine,” she said, fumbling with the keys around an armful of clean linens. 

Merlin snagged the keys out of her hands and unlocked the door. “Are you sure about that?” 

“It’s just that I forgot the Thompsons called and asked about an early check-in today, and I’ve got to get this done, and also—” Merlin grabbed the linens from her, cutting her off. 

“I’ve got it,” he said, “You go back to the front desk.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, go,” he answered, chasing her out of the cabin with a towel. 

He was halfway through making the bed before he remembered Arthur. Shit. Merlin glanced at his watch, he was already late. He moved as quickly as he could to finish, tension building between his shoulder blades. 

On his way back to the ranch house, Gwaine flagged him down. “Merlin! I need help moving the bison, think you can manage to not fall off the horse this time?” 

“Can’t, sorry Gwaine, I’ve got to take a guest into town,” Merlin said, shaking his head. 

Gwaine let out a deep breath. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to die alone, then.” 

Merlin gave him a half-smile. Gwaine gave him an odd look in return. “Are you alright, Merlin?” 

“Yeah, fine, just running late.” 

“Well, don’t keep whoever it is waiting,” Gwaine said, still looking at him funny. Merlin flashed him another quick smile and headed up the path. It was never ending—just as he got one thing done, another one was waiting for him or someone needed his help. 

Merlin’s hand swiped through an empty slot on the key rack inside, and he stared blankly at it for a good minute before registering that the Explorer keys were not where they were supposed to be. This day was going to kill him—and he hadn’t even driven the hot jackass into town yet. He patted his pockets, looking for his own keys before deciding he wasn’t subjecting Kilgharrah to whatever snobby comments Arthur would have.

“Leon! Do you know where the Explorer keys are?” He yelled at the passing wrangler. 

“Trying to escape again, eh Merlin?” 

Merlin made a face. Take a ranch vehicle for a joyride in the middle of the night one time…. 

“No, I have to take one of the guests into town.” 

“Gaius is having you do that now?” Leon asked, a worried look on his face. 

“No, just this once. Also, I think Gwaine needs help with something.” 

“Gwaine does need help with something,” Gwaine said, appearing behind them both. Merlin jumped, knocking a different set of keys off the rack. “Gotta move the bison to the north pasture now that the fence is fixed.” 

“Can Percy help? I’ve got a trail ride this afternoon,” Leon said. 

“Maybe,” Gwaine said, watching Merlin put the keys back on the rack. “Who are you taking into town anyway?” 

“Arthur,” Merlin muttered, running his hands over his face and trying to figure out where the fuck the keys would be. Why couldn’t something go the way it was supposed to, just once? 

“Well that should be fun.” 

“Sure—if he doesn’t murder me for being this late first.” 

Leon laughed. “You sure you want to do that? You two haven’t exactly been buddies since he got here.” 

“It’s fine.” 

Gwaine grinned. “Taking the hot, rich boy into town—sounds like fun.” 

“You mean the rich prat.” 

“Pretty sure I saw Gaius come back in the Explorer this morning,” Gwaine said, slapping a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and squeezing. “Have fun with the princess.” 

Merlin shrugged him off and headed past the kitchen and down the back hall to Gaius’s office. He knocked on the door. No answer. He groaned and knocked his head against the wood before cracking the door open. He felt bad sneaking around in here, but he really needed those keys. Merlin carefully poked at the papers littering the desk. This was the biggest problem. He couldn’t just slip in here and find anything without poking around in things not intended for his eyes. Gaius had a filing system—and it made sense to precisely no one else. 

He moved a few bills around, still hunting for the keys, when his eyes fell on a piece of paper —a printout of an email. Gaius hated reading things on the computer and no matter how much Merlin ribbed him about killing the trees, he insisted on printing anything he deemed “important.” Important in this case was an email from Uther Pendragon. Offering some sort of help, “whatever you need, old friend.” 

Merlin squinted at the paper, unable to make any sense of it. It was unsettling that this old friend Gaius barely talked about was suddenly sending his kids out here and offering “help.” Help with what? Was something wrong with—Merlin picked the email up and froze at the thing beneath it. A email from someone at Sotheby’s about “property value” and “assessment.” The edge of a keyset poking out underneath. 

Someone cleared their throat, flooboards creaking near the door. Merlin snapped his gaze up to see Gaius raising his eyebrow at him. “Something you need, Merlin?” 

“What is this?” Merlin asked, gesturing at the desk. 

“Ranch business—nothing for you to worry about.” 

“But—” 

“Do you have somewhere to be?” 

“What?” 

Gaius looked at the Explorer keys Merlin was gripping in his hand. Right. Arthur. 

*


	5. Complaints and Grievances Raised In The West

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If his father could bother to treat him like an adult, Arthur would appreciate it. A lot.

Arthur wandered around the ranch, taking time to lean against the split-rail fence and watch Leon work through training exercises with the little brown horse. Mentally, Arthur was running through expenses versus profit, based off of what he and Morgana were paying. The business seemed tight, maybe not even particularly viable. Morgana's protests about it being a vacation first floated through his head. He laughed at his own inability to stop thinking about work, not wanting to deal with the alternative. He eventually made his way back to the front steps of the ranch house. To wait. And wait. And wait some more.   
  
At well past ten o'clock, Merlin came whipping around the corner of the house.   
  
"You're late," Arthur said, not moving from the stairs.   
  
Merlin flushed. _Flushed_. Arthur ground his teeth together. Years of sleeping with a retainer had done little to break the habit.   
  
"Sorry about that."  
  
Arthur didn't move. 

Merlin shifted his weight back and forth and cleared his throat. "You ready to go?" he asked.   
  
"I was ready an hour ago," Arthur muttered, pushing himself off the steps.   
  
"Forty minutes."   
  
Arthur stopped walking towards the car.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Forty minutes. Not an hour."  
  
Arthur could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck. He choked down what he really wanted to say, recognizing that yelling at the random ranch hand was not going to do any good.   
  
"You're real good at your job, aren't you?"   
  
Merlin laughed, getting into the car. The kind of laugh that made some of the stress melt out of Arthur's shoulders, which made no goddamn sense. Why the hell would Merlin, of everyone on this ranch, make him feel relaxed? If anything, Merlin had been adding to his stress levels since he got here. 

"Arthur?"   
  
Merlin's voice was gentle and quiet. And that alone made Arthur want to strangle him—a little. 

"What?"  
  
Merlin flinched, making Arthur regret how harshly it came out. Merlin's grip on the steering wheel tightened.   
  
"Where are we going?"   
  
Arthur looked up to register the fact they were already out to the highway.   
  
"Uh, back to downtown."  
  
Merlin snorted.   
  
"Or as close a thing to it as you rednecks have out here."   
  
Merlin rolled his eyes so hard Arthur wondered what he was supposed to do if they stuck like that and Merlin was incapacitated while driving.   
  
"You'd die if you had to spend ten minutes in a real small town."   
  
Arthur almost voiced the opinion that Jackson was a small town, but thought better of it.

While waiting at one of the stop lights, Arthur glanced over to see a man on the sidewalk staring at him, mouth hanging open in shock. Arthur’s whole body stiffened, feeling intense stress wash over him, until he realized the man wasn’t looking at him, but behind him. Looking out Merlin’s window, he didn’t see anything. He looked back at the man who was slowly backing away, dragging his equally confused companion with him. Arthur could vaguely make out something about a….bear? He looked back, finding Merlin doing the same back and forth he was. 

“Oh, oh he….thought….” Merlin’s voice trailed off, gesturing at something. Arthur finally saw it. A rather realistic looking statue outside one of the art galleries. Arthur glanced over to see Merlin’s shoulder’s shaking. Merlin looked over at him, and they both burst out laughing. 

“Well,” Arthur said, once he had caught his breath, “I guess I understand why you don’t like tourists—if that’s how they act.” 

Merlin was wiping tears from his eyes. “There’s always one.” 

“At least?” 

“Yeah.”   
  
Merlin didn't get quite as lucky with parking this time around, but eventually managed to find something on a side street in the shade of a large pine tree. He put the car in park and rolled the windows down before cutting the engine. Leaning his seat back, he muttered, "I'll be here when you need me."   
  
Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin's tendency to nap whenever half a chance arose, and got out of the car.   
  
Two hours later, Arthur was still sitting at a desk in the Sotheby's office. He had half a dozen listings out on the table in front of him, and a pad with detailed notes on each listing. It had taken Arthur a few minutes to get the realtor to believe him when he said he worked for a company in New York interested in investing in the area. Not wanting to tip his hand, he'd been studiously looking at multiple listings before finally asking enough vague questions to get the one he really wanted to see up on the table.   
  
"This might be similar to what you're looking for, old Jackson establishment. Honestly, it's a shame they're selling. Working dude ranch that's been in that family for decades." 

Arthur looked over the listing for Fallen Kings Ranch with studied neutrality.   
  
"Are they looking to sell outright or for someone to buy the business, but not necessarily take over day-to-day operations?"  
  
"The seller is open to either," Brett the realtor caged.   
  
"Looks like the authentic Wyoming experience," Arthur commented, flipping through pictures.   
  
"If you mean it doesn't look worthy of the price tag, it's the land's location that gives it value. The ranch does well enough, but the property itself is what's worth something."   
  
Arthur nodded, peppering in a few more questions before finally getting around to what he really wanted to know.   
  
"Any other interest in the property? Would we need to make a quick decision?"   
  
He'd been asking it about every single listing so far. Just for the one answer.   
  
"There's been some general inquiry, but no interest as significant as yours."   
  
Leave it to his father to be moving chess pieces around and not bothering to inform anyone there was a game going on.   
  
Arthur tried his best not to take the frustration he felt with his father out on the realtor, or Merlin on the drive back. After a few terse responses from Arthur, Merlin, blessedly, let silence fall over the car.   
  
Getting back to the ranch, Arthur marched straight to his cabin, closed the door and called his father's office line. His secretary answered, informing Arthur that Uther was in a meeting and "unavailable for the next hour and half."   
  
"No, he's not, this is his daily 'I'm getting shit done, leave me alone' time. Put me through."   
  
There was silence on the other end of the line for several moments. Then ringing.  
  
Arthur sat on the bed, white knuckling his phone. Shoulders pulling up and back, he took a breath before his father picked up.   
  
"What?"  
  
"Hello, Father,” Arthur waited for something a little more friendly. And got nothing. Right. That was about what he'd expected but still. Might as well get straight to the point.   
  
"Why didn't you tell me you want to buy the Fallen Kings Ranch, specifically?"   
  
"Oh good, you did your research." Arthur could hear papers shuffling in the background.   
  
"Was this some kind of test? Why didn't you just tell me what was going on?"   
  
"I wanted to know how thoroughly you'd research your information before trying to give me the rundown."   
  
"Great. Well, now that I've passed your little exam, any other secrets you want to tell me about?"   
  
"Arthur, I'm keeping this close to the vest so we don't get unnecessary competition before or if we start making decisions. Gaius still hasn’t decided if he wants to sell and I want to respect an old friend’s privacy.“  
  
Arthur didn't bother pointing out that was utter bullshit. Uther kept everything so close to the vest, Arthur really shouldn't have been surprised to find out about this. He'd just hoped he was finally at the point where his father didn't need to treat him like a child anymore.  
  
Well then. Continuing with the business.   
  
"The ranch is well maintained, and well run." Except for maybe Merlin, Arthur added mentally. "The profits—from what I can tell—are fine, but a little narrow."   
  
Uther laughed.   
  
"I don't care about the current business, Arthur, you're out there to assess land value and potential competition. I plan to put a resort on the land. Jackson has a high end business clientele, the land itself is a better investment."   
  
Arthur paused. He felt…numb. Like every one of his emotions was slowly shutting down.   
  
"It's a bit farther out of town than we originally thought."   
  
"Great, so people will stay within the resort and spend more. That follows our last resort model."   
  
Oh. That's what the trip to Colorado had been about. Uther had done this before, just as a back-end investor.   
  
"Do you have a partner lined up to run this?"   
  
""Not yet, I thought we might keep this one within the company. A family thing."   
  
The fuck even? Of course his father would view building and running a resort as a neat little family bonding project. Arthur felt one singular emotion return and fought the urge to scream into his pillow. He took a deep breath in and out through his nose, reminding himself how useless it had been in the past to push back against his father.   
  
"I'll email you a write up with more details."   
  
"I'll have a look at it first thing in the morning. You and Morgana enjoying yourselves?"   
  
The abrupt change mid-sentence to a kinder tone gave Arthur whiplash.   
  
"Um, yeah. This place is great."   
  
"Good, glad to hear it. Talk to you soon."   
  
Arthur sank onto his back after hanging up. Any tension that the mountains had managed to sooth away came back all at once and he felt a headache creeping at the corners of his temples.

____________________

Arthur flopped onto Morgana's bed, flipping through the notes app on his phone. Everything was split into categories, color coded, and carefully titled.   
  
"Alright. Where do you want to start?"   
  
Morgana pushed him off the bed and curled up next to her pillows. 

“It’s not fair, you’re supposed to be on vacation, not running more errands for him!” 

“Morgana, it’s fine.” 

“No, it’s not, Arthur. He should respect—”

“I can’t pass this opportunity up,” Arthur said, gritting his teeth. 

“Fine,” Morgana acquiesced, after a tense staring match. "I think we can just tell Dad that it's a good idea."   
  
Arthur raised his eyebrows.   
  
"I don't think Dad's going to just run with it because we said so.”   
  
Morgana stifled some snarky statement and dutifully pulled out her phone. They spent the next several minutes speaking in a way that made Arthur unconsciously try to loosen the tie he'd left in New York.   
  
Arthur was pacing back and forth, debating the merits of which avenues of information gathering to pursue the next day when Morgana interrupted his musings about long-term viability based on historical trends.   
  
"Arthur, you're taking this way too seriously."   
  
Arthur stopped pacing and looked over to his sister. Who was lounged out on the bed, brochures from Gwen scattered around her.   
  
She arched one eyebrow up at him.   
  
"This isn't that big of a deal. Honestly, this is the closest Dad will ever get to giving you time off. Enjoy yourself."  
  
Arthur's shoulders tensed up more than they already were.   
  
"How can you say that? It's a lot of money, and also the first time Dad has just sent us off to spend it without him."  
  
Morgana snorted. Arthur put his hands on his hips and waited.   
  
"It's a potential investment, not a done deal. Honestly, he didn’t tell you to begin with to get you to leave your desk for once."   
  
The flash of frustration and pain through his chest had very little to do with Morgana. That did not stop him from saying what he said next.   
  
"So you want to just keep skating by being daddy's little girl?"   
  
Morgana's ease evaporated into sheer ice.   
  
"I work just as hard as anyone at this company."   
  
"Sure you do. And now that Dad's given us something important to handle on our own, you want to just say 'yeah, sure just come see it yourself' instead of doing the work he asked us to do."   
  
"That's not what I said and you know it, Arthur."  
  
"Oh it's exactly what you said. We have work to do and you're just trying to smile and wave your perfect hands and get out of it."   
  
Morgana threw the pillow at him.   
  
"Get out. Before I throw something at you that's actually going to do damage."   
  
Arthur snorted.   
  
"You don't have the nerve."   
  
Lord knows why he was challenging Morgana, because he didn’t. He came to his senses just enough to go for the door while she was scrambling around the bed. Something hit the wall with a dull thud while Arthur let the screen door bang shut.   
  
He stormed onto the porch, leaned against the rough wood and let his head fall back. He groaned. It was going to take a fairly significant apology to fix this. And ensure Morgana didn't use it against him. He loved his sister, she was just capable of being a manipulative ice queen on her bad days. And he preferred to keep her storms directed at other people. All of which was superficial to the guilt he felt over saying something that she really didn't deserve. He had to stop taking his frustration with his father out on other people.   
  
Arthur opened his eyes to see Merlin passing by, giving Arthur a curious look. He stopped walking and started to say something.   
  
"Don't you have horses to feed or something?" Arthur snapped before Merlin had a chance. He brushed down the stairs and past Merlin.   
  
"You good?" Merlin asked to his retreating back.   
  
Arthur turned back around, eyebrows raised.   
  
“I snapped at my sister for something that's my dad's fault. You know, family drama," he said, weakly trying to save the whole unintended sentence.   
  
Merlin was looking at him with a steady gaze.   
  
"Are you going to apologize?"   
  
For something so accusatory, Merlin managed to say it without any malice. Just the patient curiosity of a bystander.   
  
"Of course, just not right now. If I go back in there I'll just be dodging projectiles."   
  
Merlin cracked a grin with the corner of his mouth.   
  
"So you're stuck stewing in your guilt."   
  
Arthur sighed through his nose.   
  
"Welcome to the Pendragon family," he said.   
  
"Sounds delightful," Merlin said dryly, before continuing down the path to do whatever it was he did around here. Arthur hadn't really pinned that down. The wranglers seemed to have set jobs that made sense to him but everywhere Arthur went, Merlin just popped up. Doing what seemed to be a different job every time.   
  
"Hey, I'm sorry for the other morning," he called out after Merlin.  
  
Merlin turned back around, eyebrows furrowed together.   
  
"I mean it this time," Arthur said. "I've been a dick about the horses. And the buffalo. Sorry about that."   
  
"Thanks, Arthur," Merlin said, smiling a little and walking away.   
  
Arthur didn't talk to Morgana for the rest of the day, steering clear of her at dinner. Morgana sat with Gwen at one end of the long table, laughing the whole time. Arthur sat at the other, politely listening to the couple across from him. They were from Utah and their daughter, bless her, had given them a trip up here as a wedding anniversary present. The couple were pleasant enough, and Arthur felt he got a good insight into some of the clientele he hadn't thought about yet. He'd assumed that most people coming out here would be from as far away as him and Morgana. There seemed to be a significant amount of local tourism.   
  
The couple drifted away, and one of the ranch hands sat down in their place. His reddish blonde hair was still slightly crushed from his hat. His kind eyes drifted over Arthur's tensed hands.   
  
"How are you enjoying the ranch?" he asked, between bites of mashed potatoes.   
  
"It's not too bad," Arthur smiled, moving his hands to his lap.   
  
"Ah, Leon, I see you found the rich New York mogul," Gwaine said brightly, sitting down next to Leon.  
  
"You someone important back in NYC?"   
  
"I wish. That's my father."   
  
Leon and Gwaine were fun to talk to, even if Arthur wondered at the number of times Gwaine brought up Merlin. He let himself linger with the two cowboys even after he saw Morgana head out the door. Merlin finally stole their dishes from under their noses and shooed them out the door. "I've got work to do, get out of the kitchen.”  
  
Arthur laughed. Merlin shot him a smile that sent Arthur's head spinning a little. Leon clapped him on the shoulder and told him to have a good night.   
  
"Yeah, you too. See you around."   
  
Arthur headed out the door as Gwaine continued to harass Merlin. The last thing Arthur saw was Merlin snapping the dish towel at a ducking Gwaine.   
  
He braced himself and went straight for Morgana's cabin.   
  
"Who is it?" she called out after Arthur knocked.   
  
"Your idiot brother."   
  
Morgana cracked the door open.   
  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of those things."   
  
"No, you shouldn't have."   
  
While Morgana didn't look happy, she didn't have the same murderous look in her eyes from early. Or all the other times Arthur had pissed her off. It might take another day, but she'd accept the apology and move on.   
  
"Arthur, I meant it. You need to chill. You're getting too wrapped up in, well, in everything. Making Dad blissfully happy isn't your be-all-end-all."   
  
Arthur didn't move. Morgana had a soft and serious tone to her voice he expected about as much as the speech she just gave.   
  
"Or at least it shouldn't be."   
  
"Yeah." Arthur didn't know what to say. He wasn't quite ready to talk about the things that had started to form coherent thoughts in his head lately.   
  
"Get some sleep," Morgana said, pulling him into a hug. 

*


	6. Eliciting Strange Perfections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firelight has a way of plying truths out of the reluctant.

There weren’t many moments Merlin had to himself. He’d gone from the hectic stress of college straight to the hectic stress of the ranch, running around and filling in all the odd gaps no one else had time for. Gwaine and Leon had both expressed immense relief at having someone else to help out—which had led Merlin to prod Gaius about hiring someone else, but there was always some excuse Gaius had for cutting the conversation short. Though given what he’d seen in Gaius’s office the other day, there may have been a reason for that. Merlin sighed and dragged his attention back to where it was supposed to be. 

Well. As much as he could in his current state. 

He was sitting in his room with the window open, the fall afternoon breeze blowing in and rustling the papers on his desk. Merlin was sprawled in the desk chair, his worn out boots pressed up against the wall under the desk and his cowboy hat covering his face, musing yet again about how crazy Arthur was making him. He’d found a whole new side of it yesterday. 

While he had kind of lost the plot of his own life recently, Arthur seemed so driven. When was the last time Merlin had done something that would move him towards all those dreams he claimed to have? So, when he had an unexpected break in the afternoon, he’d sat down at his computer and intended to finish an application for a job he’d started back in June. He was going to update his resume, finish this application an old college friend had sent him, and apply for something else. 

Instead, he was hiding behind his hat. 

The door slammed open, sending Merlin nearly off the chair and the hat flying into the void. Gwaine patiently waited for Merlin to right himself. 

“Gwaine.” 

“Merlin.” 

“Knocking.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Listen, I’m headed out to fix the fence in the south pasture, and I need Percy’s help so you’re going to have to help Leon set up the bonfire for tonight.” 

Merlin stifled his groan, he’d forgotten it was Wednesday. Wednesdays meant campfires and cowboy songs. And, inevitably, Gwaine’s drunk crooning after the guests had wandered off to bed. Or before the guests had left—despite Merlin and Leon’s best efforts to get them to go. Well, Leon’s best efforts. Merlin found it entirely too funny to give cryptic warnings and watch them try and decipher the meaning, all while keeping that polite smile on their faces. 

“Fine.” 

It had been a nice few moments to himself, even if he had wasted them hiding away in his hat. 

Gwaine was giving him that curious look that always meant he was about to ignore social conventions and go needling around in Merlin’s life. 

“You planning on submitting something?” Gwaine asked, nodding towards a literature magazine on the desk. 

“No,” Merlin answered, not looking at the three month old date on the top of the journal. Or the non-creased pages. 

“You should. When was the last time you wrote something?” 

Merlin sighed and rubbed his eyes. “When was the last time I had time?” 

“Well, what were you doing just now?” 

“None of your business.” The last thing Merlin felt like doing at the present moment was having another conversation about his future with anyone. 

There was a twinkle in Gwaine’s eye. “I’m sure Arthur would be flattered to know you think of him when—” 

“What? No! Gwaine!” 

“No judgement, Merls, he is handsome as hell.” 

"He’s alright, I guess,” Merlin said. This was a pretty common game, Gwaine gushing about how hot a certain guest was while Merlin downplayed it—especially if he agreed with Gwaine. 

“You guess? Merlin, you’ve been drooling over him since you picked him up at the airport.” 

This was not how the game worked. 

“Yeah, sure, fell in love the first moment I laid eyes on him. Right before he tried to punch some random guy.” 

“Yeah, Gwen told me.” 

Merlin’s face creased in confusion. “Gwen?” 

“Morgana told her what happened. Some guy called her a slut, Arthur stepped in to defend her. Apparently against her will, she was very insistent to Gwen that she can take care of herself.” 

“Oh.” 

He wasn’t sure which part of that he wanted to ask about more. Probably the part where apparently Gwen and Morgana had been speaking? Like, a lot? 

“Did you not notice that?” Gwaine said, looking at him funny, “Gee, you really have been fixated on Pendragon.” 

Merlin could feel the tips of his ears turning red. “I am not.” 

“Sure. Well, Leon still needs your help.” 

“Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.” 

“Tell him yourself, what do I look like, your servant?” 

Gwaine dodged the pillow Merlin threw at him, grinning as he ducked out of the room. Merlin retrieved his pillow from the floor, and then stood for a minute in the middle of his room with his face buried in it. 

Arthur fucking Pendragon was going to be the death of him, and he’d only known the prat for a week. 

Merlin screamed into the pillow before putting it back on the bed. 

____________________

Merlin gathered himself together and found Leon, who gave him a wide, easy smile and blissfully allowed them to work in silence, getting wood from the wood pile and taking it down to the fire pit. They had to clean out the ashes from last week, a chore that never seemed to get done when it was past midnight and everyone was ready for their beds. Merlin always added it to his to-do list for the week, but never seemed to get around to it before Wednesday afternoons. 

The fire pit was wide ring of rocks from the river (Merlin having been dragged along with his mother and Gaius when he was ten to pick them up from said river—it was a rather pleasant memory, despite having complained significantly about it at the time), surrounded by various logs and stumps as seats, all nestled into a cleared out area near an aspen grove. 

As the sun started to set, guests started to drift out to the fire pit, showing up right after Gwen appeared with sharpened willow sticks and bags of marshmallows. Merlin had nothing against campfires. He loved sitting around a good campfire, swapping stories with friends and roasting marshmallows. He just had something against this particular tradition. To him, this was one of the more ridiculous things they did, but most tourists just inhaled it like it was normal. Surely no one actually thought this wasn’t artificial as fuck. 

Arthur sure did. His disgust was getting less subtle as the night wore on, so at least Merlin had entertainment. Tucked away in the back, Merlin pulled out his phone and turned the brightness all the way down. He had a text from Will complaining about some of the asinine questions he’d gotten from a couple of tourists at work. 

_Now Will, you know what my mom always says, we’ve got to share this beautiful place we had the privilege of being born in._

He tucked his phone in the pocket of the gray hoodie he was wearing under his Carhart jacket, wishing he’d put a hat on before coming down here. The thing about fall in Wyoming—or really any time of year in the mountains—was the tendency of the temperature to plummet twenty or thirty degrees after the sun went down. Which, with the daytime temps barely getting above 55, meant Merlin should have known better. He glanced across the flames to see Arthur suppressing a shiver, despite being closer to the fire. Merlin’s phone buzzed against his hands, stuffed in the hoodie’s front pouch. 

_Not with idiots I don’t._

_Speaking of the tourists, I saw a guy in Jackson today who looked like he thought the statue out in front of Trailside’s was real._

_See what I mean. Idiots._

Merlin’s thoughts were back on Arthur, and on Arthur’s smile, so naturally his brain tugged his eyes back to where Arthur was sitting, hunched into his hoodie and a polite smile on his face. Morgana looked like she was enjoying herself, whispering comments to Gwen. His phone buzzed again.

_Why were you in Jackson anyway? Thought you had a job or some shit._

_I do. I was chauffeuring a guest around._

Merlin meant it entirely as a joke. 

_You really shouldn’t let people treat you like that._

His cheeks flushed reading it, even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. 

_I see my comedic skills have failed me once again. It’s fine Will—it’s literally part of my job. Arthur’s not as bad as some guests we’ve had._

_Wait. The stuck up New Yorker?_

Right. He’d already complained to Will about Arthur, which meant Arthur could single-handedly save the world and Will would still dislike him. Changing Will’s first impression of someone was damn near impossible. 

_Might’ve been wrong about him._

That didn’t mean Merlin wasn’t going to try. Apparently he enjoyed banging his head against brick walls. 

_Sure, as if someone like him would ever see someone like you as anything more than a means to an end or the hired help._

A deep tiredness settled onto his shoulders as he read the text. 

_I’ll make sure and pass that along to Arthur, gotta live through the rest of this sing-a-long first,_ he wrote back, trying to wrap up the conversation _._

_Say hi the next time you’re down here_

_Will do_

This part of the night wasn’t so bad. Most of the kids had started to drift off, and been carted away by their parents. Leon was pulling out the old cowboy songs that Merlin actually liked. The whole thing felt more natural, less like a performance put on for the benefit of outsiders. And he was mesmerized by Arthur’s golden hair and his tired eyes. A log fell in the fire, sending a shower of sparks upwards that reflected off Arthur’s eyes like stars. Some of the tension had melted out of his shoulders and he was slumped forward, gazing into the fire with a half-smile. 

Arthur caught him looking, giving him a grin before the panic at being caught staring could set in. Merlin winked—wherever that bravado came from—and jerked his gaze to the stars before he started blushing. 

Good Lord, he was acting like a teenager. Worse than a teenager. He was letting his emotions get the best of him. Arthur was just another guest who’d be gone in a couple weeks. 

“This seat taken?” 

Merlin snapped his gaze away from the sky, blinking. Arthur was standing next to him, smiling. 

“Uh, no, go for it.” 

The log Merlin was sitting on really wasn’t big enough for two people—although it looked like it. Which meant Arthur ended up far closer than he’d probably intended to be. Close enough for Merlin to feel the heat radiating off him, despite the fact that Arthur was shivering. 

“Forgot a coat?” 

“It’s September—it’s not supposed to be this cold yet.” 

“Welcome to Wyoming,” Merlin deadpanned. He heard someone clearing their throat and looked up to make eye contact with Gwaine, who was drunk and had that look about him. 

“Oh no.” 

“What?” 

“And this is why we try to keep Gwaine away from the guests as much as possible—Lord knows Gaius doesn’t need a sexual harassment lawsuit on his hands.” 

Arthur wrinkled his nose. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means Gwaine’s about to serenade all of us, and you might want to save yourself,” Leon cut in. 

“I dunno, I think the princess might like it,” Gwaine said, reaching for Leon’s guitar. Leon smacked his hands away and promised to play whatever song Gwaine wanted, so as long as it meant Gwaine kept his hands off Leon’s most prized possession. 

“He plays it, you know,” Percy piped in. Merlin coughed to cover the laughter bubbling up when Arthur jumped at that. It was all too easy to forget that Percy actually spoke. 

“Plays what?” Leon asked, idly strumming. 

“Your guitar, when you’re in the shower.” 

Merlin nearly fell off the log laughing. “Oh, he’s going to pay for that later,” he murmured to Arthur. 

Arthur was staring at Gwaine, wide-eyed and failing to cover up his shock. Gwaine had started in acapella, leaving Leon scrambling to both figure out the song and catch up. 

“Oh yes, it really is that bad.” 

“Always?” 

“Every Wednesday, all summer long, and into the fall.” 

Arthur snorted, resting his chin on one hand, elbow propped on his knee. It was…nice, sitting here next to Arthur. Even Gwaine’s screeching was less terrible than most Wednesdays.

*


	7. Western Wildflowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's got opinions. And one of them is Arthur ought to get a taste of the real Wyoming.

Arthur woke up to Morgana shaking him.   
  
"What is the point of locks with you around?" Arthur muttered into his pillow, before turning over and dragging said pillow over his head.   
  
"I'm headed out for a girl's day with Gwen, try not to get into too much trouble."   
  
"Whatever," Arthur slurred into the nice, comfy cotton of the pillow.   
  
"See you at dinner."   
  
Arthur thought about raising his hand to wave goodbye. Whether or not his sleep-addled brain actually communicated that to his arm was up for debate.   
  
Sometime much, much later, Arthur really woke up and hauled himself out of bed. Rolling his neck, he realized how not-tired he felt. Less tired than he'd been a long time.   
  
He'd missed breakfast, but couldn't bring himself to care. He wandered into the kitchen and snagged himself a couple of pieces of toast from a laughing Gwaine who seemed a little too amused at Arthur's bedhead. Gwaine continued washing dishes and snickering to himself as Arthur flipped him off and wandered out of the kitchen, munching on the last of the toast.   
  
Arthur found his way out to the front porch where Merlin was leaning against the house, scrolling through his phone.   
  
"Like I keep saying, you're bad at your job."   
  
Merlin laughed.   
  
"Got the day off. Next two days, actually."  
  
"It's a Thursday?"   
  
"We've got a big group coming in this weekend. I take my time off where I can find it."   
  
Arthur settled in on the wall next to Merlin.   
  
"Planning to spend the weekend abusing your friendship with the local cop at the airport?"   
  
"Only to pick up you, your highness."   
  
Arthur laughed.   
  
"Guess I was a bit of a prat there, huh?"   
  
Merlin smiled. "A bit, but it's okay. Morgana mentioned you've been under some stress lately."   
  
It seemed Morgana had been up to more than he realized. The barely heated air hung between them, absorbing the silence. Merlin scuffed the toe of his shoe on the porch. "It's not like I cut you any slack that day."  
  
Arthur swallowed his grin. "I didn't really deserve it."   
  
The silence spread again, comfortable. Like the sort of silence you have with your old best friend you haven't seen in years but still remember every line of their smile. Merlin's first comment sunk further into Arthur's restful haze of a morning.   
  
"God, I don't work that hard. My family needs to lay off."   
  
Merlin smirked.   
  
"Sure you don't. You just can't relax for five minutes."   
  
"And how would you know that?"   
  
"Because in your first five minutes here you almost got stomped on by a horse!"   
  
"It was not the first five minutes. The first five minutes were perfectly pleasant. Probably because that was before you showed up. Late, I might add."   
  
Merlin followed that up with something particularly insulted about Arthur's likely parentage and Arthur found himself laughing like he hadn't in ages.   
  
"You know Merlin," Arthur settled back against the wall, drawing the pause out until he thought Merlin was about to hurl some insult at him, "you're not that bad."   
  
He got the grin he was hoping for.   
  
"You're not so bad yourself. For a clotpole."   
  
"Still not a word." Arthur found the way Merlin's smile transformed his whole face to be infectious. Some people smiled all the way to their eyes, but every muscle in Merlin's face moved when he smiled.   
  
"Oh, it's a word. They had to come up with some way of describing you."  
  
The laughter faded out between them.   
  
"You...want to go get coffee?" Merlin finally offered.   
  
"Coffee."   
  
Merlin dropped his eyes to the porch.   
  
"It was an idea," he muttered. Arthur realized he'd come across a bit harsh in response to Merlin's peace offering.   
  
"Yeah, sure. Coffee sounds great. Can't wait to see the local diner."   
  
Merlin looked up, laughing a little but his usual smile was missing.   
  
"We have coffee shops, you prat."   
  
Arthur grinned at the insult.   
  
"I'll be the judge of that."   
  
"Well, let's go then."   
  
Merlin walked off the porch and straight past the black Explorer in the driveway.   
  
"Uh, Merlin?" Arthur asked.   
  
"Yeah," Merlin answered, without turning around.   
  
“Forget where you parked?"   
  
"No..." Merlin trailed off as he turned to see Arthur standing next to the Explorer, eyebrow already cocked and quip on his tongue. Merlin grinned.   
  
"That's the ranch's car. That," Merlin waved to a red Subaru Impreza that Arthur had not noticed tucked next to the fence in the long grass, "is mine.” 

"Is that big enough for both of us?"   
  
"Yes, well, maybe not for you _and_ your ego." 

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur playfully shoved him. Merlin kept grinning. 

“And,” Merlin added, playfully pointing a finger at Arthur, “You’d better be nice to him. Kilgharrah doesn’t like self-important clotpoles.”   
  
Merlin took him into Jackson, getting even less lucky with parking, ending up in a public parking lot about a block from the square. He dragged him through a corner of the park in the middle, the defining feature of which were four archways at each corner, made out of elk antlers. Arthur made a quip about the blood of a million dead elk adorning the town and Merlin just glared at him. Without the bite, this time.   
  
"They drop them, you dollophead."   
  
"What?"  
  
"Elk. They grow a new set of antlers every year. People go out and pick up the old ones off the ground and make stuff with them."   
  
"Oh."   
  
Merlin led him into a storefront with an all glass front and arched ceilings, supported by the rough hewn timber that Arthur was growing to love. The rough and tumble of the West met modern architectural themes in a number of the buildings around here, and Arthur had decided he quite liked it.   
  
They had been at a table, coffees in hand, discussing everything under the sun from their favorite book to their high school sport teams when Merlin made a joke about growing up in the "real Wyoming."   
  
"What does that mean?"   
  
"Oh, just that Jackson is pretty different from the rest of Wyoming. Some Wyomingites think it's a little on the fake side."   
  
"It seems natural enough to me," Arthur said, leaning back with one arm slung over the back of the chair next to him.   
  
"Yeah, because it's similar to what you already know," Merlin said, with a gleam in his eye.   
  
"Oh, I can figure out what that look means," Arthur said, leaning in like he was about share a secret, "What harebrained idea have you got into your head that you're just utterly convinced will show me I'm wrong? Huh?"   
  
Merlin stood up and jerked his head in the vague direction of the car.   
  
"Get in the car and I'll show you."   
  
"Show me what?"  
  
"The real Wyoming."   
  
Arthur looked around in fond exasperation before his eyes landed back on Merlin.   
  
"Fine. Bring the car around and we'll go."   
  
"Oh no. This isn't New York, you're going to walk back to the car with me."   
  
Arthur rolled his eyes, not wanting to show the embarrassment he felt over how he had, really, just treated Merlin like a servant.  
  
Back in the car, Merlin headed south out of town, steadfastly refusing to answer any of Arthur's questions, about where they were going, how far away they were going, or even if they were going to be gone long enough that Arthur should let Morgana know he was going to be back late.   
  
"Or are you driving me to some godforsaken cow pasture with the intent of murdering me, Merlin?" Arthur asked, as they wound through a steep canyon with a river from a fairytale rushing through it, white caps foaming in the rapids.   
  
Merlin only snorted in response, but Arthur caught the fondness in his sideways glance.   
  
They settled into a comfortable silence as the radio fizzled into static, its signal finally cut off by the craggy peaks on both sides. Arthur was thoroughly distracted by the brilliant yellows and reds of the trees climbing the canyon walls.   
  
Eventually, the narrow sides opened up rather suddenly into a glimmering lake at the end of a valley. The early afternoon sunlight bounced off the water and into Arthur's eyes as they stopped at what Merlin informed him was the singular stoplight in "the whole valley."   
  
Crossing the river, the highway curved through the beginnings of a town. A mix of log cabin inspired architecture and simple, cement block buildings meant it didn't look all that different to Arthur than Jackson did. Until five minutes later, when he realized they were leaving.   
  
"Was that it?" he asked, twisting back in his seat to see that indeed, there wasn't more of a sprawling metropolis they'd only cut through the edge of.   
  
"All of Alpine," Merlin said, speeding back up as the valley narrowed a bit. The valley floor was covered with waving fields of yellow grass, dotted with the occasional house. What struck Arthur was the space. On either side were mountains. Real, proper mountains cutting off the horizon, but the distance between him and those mountains gave the impression of space like he'd never experienced it before.   
  
"Where are we, Merlin?" Arthur asked.   
  
The road curved sharply and the rest of the valley opened up before him. He felt like a king coming into his kingdom.   
  
"Home," Merlin smiled at him, "Or, at least, Wyoming without the millionaire's stimulus package."   
  
Another little town, if you could call it that, approached. Merlin pulled over the side of the road near a beige building with white lettering reading "Etna General Store." Arthur tried not to scoff. Merlin shot him a dagger as he started getting out of the car.   
  
"Sorry. I just thought these things were only in old Western movies."   
  
Getting out made Arthur realize how long they'd been in the car. The hour long drive had left his legs stiff.   
  
"Or tourist traps," he tacked on.   
  
That got him another glare from Merlin before he spun on his heel and into the store.   
  
Inside, it looked like a stereotype of a general store, with old floors and a cozy seating area. The whole thing was clean and comfortable. As the wood floorboards creaked under him, clearly older than the rest of the updated store, Arthur could imagine cowboys from old movies moving through the aisles, revolvers on their hips.   
  
Merlin had gone straight to the register where a guy his age with mousy brown hair was leaning against the register, chin in hand, and eyes on the newspaper.   
  
"Will!"   
  
The man's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing.   
  
"I thought I told you not to come around here anymore."   
  
Arthur's pulse sped up and his hands curled into fists as he moved to put himself in-between Merlin and the counter. The tension hung in the air and then shattered as Will broke out into a huge grin.   
  
"Merlin! How are you? Down here visiting your mom?"   
  
"Good, good. No, just showing this city slicker from the ranch around. Decided he needed a taste of the real Wyoming," Merlin gestured back at a hesitant Arthur.   
  
He'd never thought that being from the city was a bad thing, but Westerners hurled the phrase "city slicker" like it was a four letter word.   
  
Will coolly regarded Arthur. “So what do you think?"   
  
What did he think? He thought he'd been hurled off the edge of a cliff, into a sun dappled river that was still trying to drown him nonetheless.   
  
"I'm impressed," was what came out of his mouth. "It's a gorgeous area of the country," he continued.   
  
Will's face almost softened into something resembling a smile.   
  
"Leave it to Merlin, he can make anyone come to love this place."   
  
It wasn't the place Arthur had needed to be talked into liking.  
  
Merlin grinned and went on chatting with Will about the kinds of things old friends do, while Arthur drifted away. The snacks on the shelves looked like anything he might see at the corner bodega, in contrast to the postcards and knickknacks and the box of shotguns shells next to the register.  
  
He eventually found his way back to the front counter. Will pelted him with a litany of the usual "getting to know you" questions before a local in worn Carharts and a jean jacket came in, dusting off his hat and getting Will's attention to ask for a package that had come in the mail. The side room off the store apparently served as the post office for the town.   
  
Merlin took the opportunity to drag Arthur back out of the store, waving goodbye to Will.   
  
They got back in the car, and Merlin kept driving. The opposite way of the way they'd come. Arthur texted Morgana to let her know he was out “exploring with Merlin" and he might not be back in time for dinner. He got back a confusing reply, just a winky face. Before he could parse his sister's text Merlin asked, "I thought you were here on vacation?"   
  
"I am."   
  
"Doesn't sound like it, when you were talking to Will it sounded like this was all work to you."   
  
Arthur cringed inside. He clearly should have been paying more attention to what he'd been saying.   
  
"Morgana might be right about my lack of ability to relax. Just don't tell her that."   
  
It was true enough. Morgana's snarks about him being tense over vacation were still rattling around in his head. He just didn't want to disappoint his father. Again.   
  
Merlin hadn't replied. He was studying Arthur out of the corner of his eye, his main focus on the highway rolling through fields on either side of them.  
  
"Wyoming is a pretty good place to learn to let go," Merlin said, sounding as if he were picking his words as carefully as Arthur.   
  
Arthur appreciated the unexpected tact.   
  
"Our father might have asked us to give him some more information about the area. There's some potential investment opportunities with the high-end real estate market." Also not untrue. "And Morgana thinks I'm taking the whole thing way too seriously."   
  
"Are you?"   
  
Arthur took a deep breath and held it in while a semi passed them going the other way.   
  
"Maybe. I just don't want to let him down."   
  
"Doesn't seem like you a thing you’d do regularly."   
  
"You'd be surprised," Arthur said dryly.   
  
The sunlight rolled through the window, broken by power lines.   
  
"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?"   
  
"Are you hungry?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Ok then."   
  
"Merlin, that's not an answer."   
  
Merlin just shrugged, eyes sparkling. Arthur rolled his eyes, a smile cracking his mask of annoyance.   
  
Another small town rolled by, Merlin pulling into a gravel lot on the edge of it with what looked like a large log cabin at the end.   
  
"Tootsies?" Arthur questioned.   
  
"Best pizza you've ever had," Merlin flashed him that smile.   
  
"Tootsies." Arthur questioned again, getting out of the car.   
  
"Yep."   
  
Merlin seemed less than inclined to explain the utterly ridiculous name for a pizza place. Arthur threw up his hands and trailed Merlin into the restaurant. A short, blonde girl their age immediately rushed over to Merlin and gave him a hug.   
  
"Merlin! Always good to see you."   
  
Elena, as Merlin introduced her, shook Arthur's hand and waved them towards a middle booth. She followed them over, setting menus down, and hurrying off to a table with three old ladies arguing over toppings and whose grandkid was the cutest.   
  
"You should know I have very high standards when it comes to pizza," Arthur said gravely.   
  
"Yeah, well, I have a feeling this is going to meet your expectations, your majesty." Merlin winked at him.   
  
A flash of something spread through his bones, but Arthur ignored it in favor of studying the paintings around the room. High on a wall a tired cowboy looked over the room, wrangling a cow down a sagebrush covered hill in the snow. This trip had introduced Arthur to a whole new style of art, full of horses and men that seemed to be really in motion, about to gallop out of the frame.   
  
"How's Kilgharrah?" Elena asked, when she came back, order pad in hand.   
  
Arthur slowly raised an eyebrow over his menu.   
  
"Still running," Merlin smiled at Elena, "Appreciate your help with the brakes last week."   
  
"No problem. Let me know if you start hearing any more strange noises." Elena clicked the pen on the order pad, "Ok. What can I get you gents?"   
  
"Arthur?"   
  
"Why am I making the decisions, aren't you the local expert?"   
  
"I'm afraid any decision I make isn't going to be good enough for your highness." Merlin said it with a sparkle in his eyes. Arthur turned to Elena with a flourish, choosing not to notice that Elena was chuckling behind her ordering pad.   
  
"Supreme, large, please. And breadsticks."   
  
"You got it."   
  
Elena clicked her pen again and spun towards the kitchen. 

“Why Kilgharrah? Was that another gibberish word you came up with as a child? You seem to have a lot of those."   
  
"No, it's medieval," Merlin laughed, "I think it was the name of a dragon, seemed like a fitting name for a car."   
  
"A Subaru Impreza named after a dragon. Sure, Merlin, you're brilliant."   
  
Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur's tone.   
  
"Yes, I am," he said, attempting to cross his arms and managing to knock the Parmesan cheese holder across the table. The top of his ears turned red as Arthur caught the runaway container and brushed the spilled cheese into a pile.   
  
"Well, we know what you are Merlin.” Arthur winked at him.   
  
Merlin's blush spread from the top of his ears to his prominent cheekbones.   
  
The pizza arrived and Merlin was right. It was probably some of the best he’d had. He was begrudged to admit that, being from New York and all, but Merlin slowly drew it out of him.   
  
Like he drew a great many things out of him. Between marina and cheese, Arthur spilled more than he meant to about New York. About his father, and how nothing was ever quite good enough for the great Uther Pendragon. Arthur had done his best, and he really believed his father pushed him so hard out of love, but it still felt like nothing was ever up to his standards. And with his father's tendency to keep everything so close to the vest, Arthur always felt unsteady. His focus on work had slowly sapped his life into a quiet, dark apartment always waiting for him.   
  
The sun slowly sank towards the horizon, brilliant hues cutting a slash across Merlin's face, highlighting his cheekbones and blue eyes. Eyes glimmering with mirth at whatever inane joke Arthur was cracking now. He was briefly worried about running out of his supply, before realizing that he could just resort to insulting Merlin, which always resulted in a fun verbal sparring match.   
  
Merlin squinted into the sunset, and broke out into the same look he'd had at the coffee shop this morning.   
  
"I've got something else to show you," he said, getting up and walking towards the register.   
  
Arthur was too distracted by the proverbial high he was feeling from Merlin's utterly delightful company—honestly, worlds better than spending the day dealing with a surprisingly formal Sotheby's agent—to realize that Merlin had paid for the pizza until Merlin was standing back at the table, grinning down at him.   
  
"Did you just...?" Arthur gestured from the table to the register.   
  
"Yeah, come on, we're going to miss it."   
  
"Merlin, you really shouldn’t—”  
  
"Cost of living is actually affordable down here," Merlin interrupted, dragging Arthur out of the booth and out the door, waving to a bemused Elena on the way out.   
  
Merlin drove out of town and up into the foothills. Dipping into the trees, the sunlight dimmed behind the pine needles. Merlin pulled off the gravel road in a wide spot and got out.   
  
Arthur stared at him.   
  
"Well? Come on."   
  
"What? Here?"  
  
Merlin just laughed.   
  
"Yes, here. Come on, then."   
  
"You're just going to park here. On the side of the road."  
  
"Why not?" 

Merlin was out of the car and halfway up the hill before Arthur processed what was happening. He scrambled after Merlin up some sort of path through the underbrush. For several minutes, things were quiet. Arthur focused on ducking pine branches.   
  
"How much of a hike is this?" he called out to the mountain goat in front of him, if for no other reason than to bring to Merlin's attention that he was about to leave Arthur lost in the woods, attempting to pick out whatever bunny trail it was that Merlin was currently following.   
  
"It doesn't even count as a hike," Merlin called back. He may have been trying to hide the laughter in his voice, but he wasn't trying very hard. It struck Arthur just how much Merlin had laughed today. Merlin didn't seem particularly unhappy in his day-to-day life, but Arthur had heard him laugh more today than the rest of the week combined. That was…. Well, Arthur wasn't entirely sure what that was.   
  
They broke through the tree line and to the craggy hillside. The sun was still hovering above the horizon. Merlin plopped himself down on a rock.   
  
Arthur surveyed their surroundings before slowly settling down next to him.   
  
"Best place in the valley to watch the sunset?"   
  
Merlin shrugged, "There's not a bad place in the valley to watch the sunset. This one is just mine."   
  
They settled in, the comforting sound of the line sprinklers in the fields drifting up to them. Arthur could see the highway from here, but the cars were silent dots, late afternoon sun flashing off their windshields.   
  
"I used to come up here all the time when I was a teenager," Merlin reflected, almost sounding like he was talking to himself instead of Arthur.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
Honestly, he didn't mind Merlin's reverie, he just wanted to be included. The speaking seemed to shake Merlin loose a little.   
  
"Yeah, that's my mom's house down there."   
  
Merlin was pointing at a line of houses strung along a paved road, so Arthur had to ask which one.   
  
"White one, with the green roof."   
  
"Your mom still lives there?"   
  
"Yeah. Actually we should stop by before we leave, I'll never hear the end of it if she finds out I was down here and didn't say hi."   
  
Arthur was intrigued by the thought of meeting Merlin's family. And definitely not ignoring a twinge of nervousness.   
  
Merlin grew quiet, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on them. Arthur thought he looked adorable, which was the moment he jerked his eyes back to the sky. He was left speechless. He'd never seen a sunset like this. The entire sky, all the way back to the eastern horizon was colored. The blue was slowly replaced with reds and pinks, setting the mountain peaks behind them on fire and turning the ones in front into liquid sunshine. The few puffy clouds in the sky burned pink and silver as they bumbled their way through the sky.   
  
Arthur's mouth must have been hanging open because when he finally did tear his eyes away from the sky, Merlin was smirking at him. Just a little. Arthur was suddenly aware of just how attractive that smirk was. And how close they were currently sitting.   
  
"Takes your breath away, doesn't it?" Merlin said, the smirk softening into a grin.   
  
"It certainly does."   
  
Merlin turned his gaze back to the mountains, the fire of the peaks reflecting in his eyes.   
  
"I always love seeing people's reactions to it. Makes me remember this place is special. You grow up around here, you tend to take it for granted. "  
  
"Don't," Arthur said, a bit more harshly than he intended. He could feel Merlin's gaze on him, but he kept his eyes pinned to the sunset. "It's really something amazing."   
  
Arthur let the quiet hang for a second.  
  
"Just your mom?"   
  
Merlin was tracking with his conversational leaps.   
  
"Yeah, my dad died a few years ago. Cancer."   
  
Arthur felt his chest tighten. "I know the feeling."   
  
The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Damn Merlin. He didn't talk about his mother. Uther didn't talk about his mother. It was the elephant in the room on holidays. Arthur realized Merlin was looking at him expectedly. He cleared his throat.   
  
"My mother died giving birth to me. My dad doesn't talk about her. I almost think he still blames me." Arthur hadn’t meant to say that last bit. That was a dark secret he kept to himself.   
  
Merlin shuffled a little closer.   
  
"It sucks," he said, speaking for both of them.   
  
They stayed like that until the sun fully dropped behind the mountains. Arthur rubbed his arms. Merlin was clearly too skinny to be giving off so much body heat, even with how close they were sitting.   
  
"It gets chilly pretty quick once the sun goes down," Merlin said. He stood up and stretched.   
  
"We headed out?"   
  
Secretly, Arthur wanted the answer to be no. The cold was starting to bite but he wasn't ready to leave yet, and the colors were still clinging to the sky.   
  
"Better get back to the car before it gets dark."   
  
"I thought you weren't capable of being responsible."   
  
Merlin decked him on the shoulder and took off when Arthur scrambled to his feet and lunged.   
  
They tumbled back down the invisible path and to Merlin's car. Fifteen minutes of fading dusk later, Merlin pulled into the driveway of the white house with the green roof. The lights inside were glowing warm. The porch light flipped on as Merlin stopped on a patch of asphalt. The two-story house was almost storybook-like. A wraparound porch disappeared around the sides, and a neat little chicken coop crouched among raspberry bushes out front.   
  
Merlin bounded up the front steps, smiling widely at the woman standing in the doorway.   
  
"Merlin!" his mother hugged him, murmuring something that Arthur couldn't hear but still squeezed at his heartstrings.   
  
"Who's your friend?" she asked, as Merlin dropped down to say hello to a black and white dog excitingly wagging its tail between barking at Arthur.   
  
"This is Arthur, one of the ranch guests," Merlin waved his hand at Arthur, distracted with the dog.  
  
"It's nice to meet you Arthur, I'm Hunith," Hunith reached a hand out and introduced herself when it became clear that Merlin was ignoring social conventions. Yet again.   
  
Hunith was a warm, quiet woman. She hustled the boys in after Merlin finally introduced Arthur to the dog, Aithusa. There was coffee brewing as the boys settled into the kitchen table and cookies appeared from somewhere. Hunith set mugs in front of them and settled into a chair.   
  
"So Arthur, what brings you to Wyoming?"   
  
Arthur hesitated, mug part way to his lips. He'd conveniently forgotten about that question all day. And he'd really like to continue forgetting about it.   
  
"Oh, just vacation. Morgana, my sister, insisted on dragging me out of the city with her." That was true, Morgana had spent days insisting to Uther that Arthur (who thoroughly believed he was too busy for such nonsense) come with her.  
  
"I'm really glad she did," Arthur added, glancing at Merlin. Merlin's wide grin found an echo on Arthur's lips.   
  
The conversation continued, Merlin relating a version of the events of the week that sounded far more fond of Arthur than the reality had been. Arthur protested a few of the details that made him seem like a particular idiot, but in the end he had to concede that Merlin was right. Mostly.   
  
Time seemed to have ceased to move, the warmth of the kitchen swallowing up anything else. Right until Hunith asked how long Arthur would be in town. Another thing that Arthur had conveniently forgotten about all day. He fiddled with the coffee mug as he answered. Even Merlin ceased his prattling for a moment, before quietly mentioning that they'd better be getting back to the ranch.   
  
"Oh, that's right. I let Merlin drag me an hour and a half away on a whim."   
  
Merlin rolled his eyes.   
  
"You're welcome Arthur, for giving you a view into what Wyoming's really like."   
  
"Merlin, you're not disparaging Jackson to guests again, are you?" Hunith chided a bit.   
  
Merlin shrugged.   
  
"It's true."   
  
"Different doesn't equal bad, Merlin. There's opportunities in Jackson that are only there because of the income. None of which makes it inherently better or worse than the rest of the state."   
  
Merlin made a face but didn't answer. Arthur laughed, and it started another sparring match. Hunith shook her head, hugged Merlin, and shooed him towards the door. She turned to Arthur and pulled him into a hug. Arthur's heart clenched. For a second, tears stung at his eyes.   
  
They stumbled back out to the car, the caffeine hazy in their blood. Merlin's eyes were glittering as they got back in the car, reflecting the starlight. Arthur's hand hesitated on the door handle, the stars were crystal clear like he'd never seen them. He felt rather like he'd been drinking wine.  
  
And then he blinked.   
  
The car ride back started with quiet conversation that fell into static with the radio station. With Merlin caught up in his own thoughts, Arthur's drifted back over the day. His shoulders slumped into the seat, utterly relaxed. He didn't know the last time he'd just taken the day and run with it, seeing where he ended up and letting someone else do the planning. In fact, it kind of felt like a date. Arthur was immensely grateful for the pitch dark, the dash lights not reaching the flush on his face.   
  
Back at the ranch, they paused at the split for the path back to the cabins.   
  
"Well, this was fun," Arthur said. He vividly felt like he was sixteen and dropping a girl off after his first date.   
  
Merlin shoved his hands into his jeans.   
  
"Well, good night." Merlin said, moving towards the main house. The abrupt end was a bit jarring. Arthur was left standing in the driveway, feeling distinctly like that wasn’t the ending that should have been. 

Of course, a detailed examination of what exactly he did want sent him running to bury his head under the covers. 

*


	8. The Stars Are in Their Heavens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all's right with the world. For the moment.

It was Merlin’s spot, thank you very much. His and his alone. He’d stumbled across it while striking out across the hill, deviating from the path in a moment of inspiration that some might call idiotic but, hey. There were no trees, he could see where he was going. 

And in so doing, he’d stumbled across the perfect place to watch the sunrise. Just high enough to see over the Knob—the glacial deposit smack in the middle of the valley—to the eastern horizon and catch a magnificent view of the sunrise. He hadn’t made it out here much during the summer months, partly because it was the busiest time of year on the ranch and partly because the sun had started getting up earlier than he wanted to. 

And the blonde prat standing across from him had somehow, in the space of a week, stumbled across something it’d taken Merlin twenty years to find. Merlin was still scowling at the unwelcome intrusion, and Arthur’s carefully neutral face was starting to mirror his own, standing there in a very comfortable looking blue hoodie with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Can I sit down?” Arthur asked hesitantly. Merlin shrugged. Arthur slowly lowered himself onto the rock next to Merlin. They both fell quiet—and not the comfortable sort of quiet that had permeated the car last night. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m just…” Merlin trailed off. 

“Weren’t expecting company?” 

“It took me twenty years to find this spot!” 

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. “Well, clearly I’m better at hunting for places to watch the sunrise than you, Merlin.” 

Merlin muttered an insult under his breath and sipped coffee from the lid of his thermos. Arthur’s eyes tracked the movement. 

“I don’t have a second cup, but you’re welcome to share. Somehow,” Merlin said, gesturing with the thermos lid, coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim. 

“That’s not what I want to share,” Arthur said, voice low. 

The look in Arthur’s eyes, all gentle and warm, muddled any thoughts in Merlin’s brain. Any ability to even form thoughts went out the window as Arthur leaned closer to Merlin, brushing his fingers along Merlin’s cheek before settling around his jaw. 

Arthur brushed his lips across Merlin’s, a ghost of a touch. Merlin grabbed the back of Arthur’s head, giving him a kiss that was anything but soft or sweet. Like a drowning man who’d found land. 

When they did finally break apart, it was because Arthur was gasping for air. Merlin leaned his forehead against Arthur’s, eyes still closed, just listening to him breathe. “I need to get back to the ranch. My turn to help with breakfast,” he whispered, breathless. 

“Hmmm,” Arthur hummed, tilting his head just a little and pressing a soft kiss to Merlin’s lips before pulling back. 

They sat like that for a moment, blinking in the sunlight breaking over the hill and grinning at each other. 

“I’ll take that coffee now.” 

____________________

Merlin missed Arthur walking into the ranch house later, slouched over the coffee pot as he was.   
  
"Hey," Arthur said, nudging Merlin's shoulder, "Move over, you're hogging all the caffeine."   
  
"The prince can't function without coffee?"   
  
"Nope," Arthur said, breathing deeply over a steaming mug.   
  
Arthur gave him a smile. Merlin found himself returning it, until he caught a smirk from Morgana out of the corner of his eye that he was unsure what to do with. Arthur was freshly showered, and he was standing close enough Merlin could smell his shampoo. He didn’t make any move to go sit down with the other guests, like a normal person, even after Merlin broke his gaze. Just leaned back against the counter, inhaling the scent of the coffee wafting up from the mug. 

“I don’t think it makes you less of a prat until you actually drink it.” 

“That’s not what you were calling me earlier,” Arthur smirked. Merlin felt his face turning red. He turned back to the stove to refill his barely emptied mug to keep it from showing. 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

Well if that’s how he wanted to play it. Merlin leaned a little closer and whispered, “Oh I’d like to, I’d like to do a great many things to you, Arthur Pendragon.” 

Merlin settled against the counter next to him, satisfied with the way Arthur was now the one sputtering and hiding his face in his coffee. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through emails and news snippets. Merlin's face scrunched up, and he scrolled back up on his phone. And then down. And then back up. And then down. And then scrunched his face more.   
  
"Honestly, Merlin, what are you looking at? Do you need a dictionary?"   
  
Had Gaius lost his bloody mind?  
  
"Email from Gaius. He made a decision about selling the ranch. Apparently, to some out of town, undisclosed buyer."  
  
Gwaine carefully put down the pan he was scrubbing.   
  
"This buyer have any plans?" He was picking his words with extreme care.   
  
"Yeah, they're going to renovate the place and change the name. 'A whole new resort experience, just outside stunning Jackson, Wyoming,' apparently.”   
  
Merlin tossed his phone next to his coffee cup on the counter, face scrunching into disgust. Gwaine blew out a breath and went back to the pot, scrubbing hard enough to take the finish off. Arthur muttered something, words falling in Merlin's deaf ears and slipped outside.

*


	9. Coffee Can't Fix It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's stress has come roaring back. And it just might be his own fault this time.

Morgana followed Arthur out the door.   
  
“You didn’t,” she said, once the spring pulled the screen door shut behind them.   
  
“I don't know what you're talking about.”  
  
Arthur pulled his head higher up, power walking even though he knew how ridiculous that had to look in the moment.   
  
“Arthur, you've got to pick a side.”  
  
Arthur stayed quiet.   
  
"If you want to find a way for father to invest around here and not piss off your new boyfriend, fine. It'll be next to impossible, but you'd better figure out a plan before he gets here this afternoon.”  
  
“He's flying in—wait, my new what?”   
  
Morgana just raised an eyebrow and walked away. Leaving a confused Arthur to contemplate the mountains without seeing them. Merlin came down the path a few minutes later, prattling on—something about locals and damn city slickers.   
  
"Not now, Merlin."   
  
He left an equally confused Merlin standing there, unable to deal with anyone else’s frustration on top of his own. 

And his guilt. Oh, Lord, his guilt. 

____________________

Arthur was back at the Jackson Hole Airport, arms tightly crossed, fingers drumming on his bicep. Merlin kept giving him glances that ranged from worried to amused, but Arthur steadfastly refused to make eye contact.   
  
Why? Why did Uther have to come out here? The guilt was back to swirling in Arthur's stomach. He was pretty sure he could have dealt with this all on his (and Morgana's) own, but of course his father didn't trust them enough to make a final decision without seeing the place. And despite Arthur's best attempts to steer Uther towards some of the other property listings (clean slates, nothing there, perfect, he tried to argue) instead of the ranch, Uther really was set on buying the ranch. And turning it into something very non-ranch-like.  
  
Arthur was broken out of his reverie by Merlin's hand on his arm. He started to say something and was interrupted by Morgana's squeals. Merlin dissolved into laughter.   
  
"I did not expect that reaction from Morgana," he said, taking his hand back.   
  
"Yeah, she's only like that around our dad."  
  
"Also surprising given you've been standing here like your executioner is flying in instead of family."  
  
Arthur forced a smile on his face.   
  
"See? I'm happy. "   
  
"You look demented. "   
  
Uther was about done with the hugging and was going to be walking this way any second. Arthur started steeling himself, mentally preparing. He almost missed Merlin's quiet voice.   
  
"You good?"   
  
No. No remotely. And he wasn't remotely sure why that was. Well....  
  
"Yep, peachy."   
  
Arthur plastered a smile on his face that was (hopefully) less demented looking and started moving towards his dad.   
  
"Peachy? Who talks like that?" 

Arthur bit down a laugh, unclenching his hands from balled up fists he hadn’t been aware of.   
  
"Hi, Dad. Have a good flight?"   
  
Arthur helped Uther with his suitcase, and then slid around the car to take the front passenger seat to avoid being stuck directly next to his father. At the best of times he was conflicted about his relationship with his father, trying to remember he had experience and Arthur's best interests at heart. This was not one of those times. Arthur was grateful for Morgana's continuing chatter and Merlin's quiet presence. He watched Merlin out of the corner of his eye, just soaking in the calm. 

____________________

The guilt didn't go away. Just kept gnawing at Arthur's gut as he lay staring up at knotholes and wood grain. After flipping over for the fiftieth time, Arthur dramatically slung his legs onto the floor and groaned.   
  
Pulling a hoodie over his head, he went wandering around the ranch at night. Again. Part of him hoping he'd run into Merlin again, hopefully under less humiliating circumstances, and part of him wanting to stay far, far away from the source of his guilt.   
  
He was picking his way across the sagebrush covered hill above the ranch when he nearly stumbled across someone sitting in a bare patch of grass.   
  
"Merlin."   
  
"Oh, hey Arthur." Merlin's shoulders tensed up.   
  
Arthur slid down beside him.   
  
"Can't sleep either?"   
  
"Yeah, it happens sometimes."   
  
"To the best of us."   
  
Merlin cracked a grin. It didn't quite reach his eyes like usual.   
  
"I realize I was short with you this morning,” Arthur started, waiting for Merlin's shoulders to drop away from those ridiculous ears. Didn't happen. "Morgana and I talked to our dad before he left New York, things got a little tense with some business stuff."  
  
Merlin slowly drew his shoulders down. The rest of his body was still on a tightrope.   
  
"You ever heard of the word sorry?" he muttered.   
  
Arthur shared a "really?" look with the horizon.   
  
"I'm a prat, remember?"   
  
That got a smile out of Merlin, a real one.   
  
"Yes, yes you are."   
  
They were both laughing and Arthur was slinging an arm around Merlin before he really processed what he was doing. Merlin didn't move for a second. Arthur tensed, wondering who was more awkward. Finally, Merlin leaned into it, sliding down to lean his head on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur's heart leapt into his throat.   
  
"Did realize I'd upset you so much. Sensitive little thing, aren't you?"   
  
Merlin elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm a little stressed about the whole selling-the-ranch thing."   
  
He would have to bring that up.   
  
"I'm not sure where I'd go if it gets sold and turned into…well. This feels like home."   
  
"It'll be okay," Arthur said, a hard line in his voice emanating from his utter resolve to make that true. He'd find a way for it to be okay.   
  
"Nothing felt like home for a long time, after my dad died. I finished school and somehow my uncle roped me into working for him. Guess he knew how much I needed somewhere I could find a sense of belonging."  
  
Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled Merlin tighter against him. He had to fix this. They stayed that way, Arthur brushing his fingers along Merlin's arm, staring up at the stars until Merlin slowly sat up. Arthur was reluctant to let him move.   
  
That is, until Merlin slid his hand up the back of Arthur's neck, bringing their faces so impossibly close together. Arthur's breath caught. Merlin's eyes were impossibly blue. He could feel Merlin's breath on his neck, and the last thing he saw were lashes brushing Merlin's cheeks as his eyes closed before Merlin’s lips brushed his.   
  
Arthur could smell sagebrush as he ran his hand down Merlin's side and under the hem of his shirt. Merlin whimpered into Arthur's mouth, sliding further into Arthur's lap. Arthur tugged on Merlin's waist, running both hands under his shirt, until Merlin was straddling him. Arthur groaned, running one hand up Merlin's back to card his hand through Merlin's hair. Halfway up, his hand got tangled in Merlin's shirt. They broke apart a little as Merlin laughed, gently pushing Arthur onto his back on the grass.   
  
Merlin pulled back a little.   
  
"You're leaving in a week."   
  
"Mhmm."   
  
Arthur didn’t give Merlin what he knew he was looking for. He didn't want to think about it. He was leaving in a week. And there was a whole lot more that Arthur didn't want to think about either.   
  
And that broke the lock, sending all the guilt gnawing its way right into Arthur's throat where it held on for dear life.   
  
Arthur pulled Merlin back in towards his chest, wrapping his arms around him tight and maybe, just maybe, ghosting his lips over the top of Merlin's hair.   
  
"We should get to bed." Arthur said as he released Merlin out of his arms and started to sit up.   
  
There was confusion shining in Merlin's eyes, and a hint of something else but it was gone too fast for Arthur to grasp what it was.   
  
"Yeah, guess we should."   
  
The two of them stood there for an awkward moment, before Merlin turned and walked off. Arthur knew he'd started the whole thing and feeling pain at Merlin walking away from him really was his own fault, but here he was. An idiot in the moonlight.

*


	10. Foregoing Another Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin hates everything. Everything. And also Arthur.

Merlin sauntered into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and happy. The late night had been thoroughly worth it. Uther was at the kitchen table, half-empty cup of coffee in between the complimentary newspapers that usually sat untouched next to Gwen’s perch at the front desk. Merlin could feel his eyes on him as he went about making more coffee. 

“You’re Gaius’s nephew, Merlin?” Uther’s voice shattered the quiet. 

One sentence in, and Merlin could tell he was going to strongly dislike this man. The accent, the inherently condescending tone. The lack of a real greeting. For Arthur’s sake, he’d stop short of saying “hate this man.” 

“Yeah, I am. Gaius said you two have been friends for a long time,” he answered, plastering his customer service smile on his face. 

“We have.” Uther paused, looking at Merlin. Assessing him. Measuring him against some unknown standard—Merlin could just feel he didn’t measure up. “He recommended you highly. The job is entry level, but at least you’ll get your foot in the door and get some experience. Of course, we could offer you more if you had a degree.” 

His blood wasn’t boiling, it was just already hot in the room. Despite the fact it was September. 

“I have a degree.” 

“Oh. From a state school, I assume.” 

Because there was something wrong with that. 

“Yale.” 

“Oh.” For a brief moment, Uther seemed minorly impressed. “Gaius didn’t mention that.” 

“He must have forgotten to.” 

“Of course.” 

“He’s been under a lot of stress recently—stuff with the ranch.” 

“I can imagine.” Not a thing changed about Uther’s expression. Merlin couldn’t see the faintest flicker of anything in his eyes. He glanced up as the screen door creaked. 

“Finally awake are we?” Uther said to his son, who looked like he’d prefer to shuffle back out the door he still had a handle on. 

“Sorry, Father, didn’t realize we were on a schedule,” Arthur said evenly, letting go of the door and gingerly entering the room. 

Uther turned to fully face Arthur, “There’s no time like the morning for getting things done.” 

Merlin winked at Arthur over the coffee pot, noting the tiny lift to the corner of his eyes as he struggled to keep a neutral face. Arthur nodded to his father and headed for the coffee pot. He rolled his eyes to Merlin, shaking his head at his father, and gladly accepted the cup of coffee that Merlin handed him before joining Uther at the table. 

"So have you scheduled meetings with Sotheby's yet? I don't want anyone else moving on a prime piece of real estate now that Gaius has finally made up his mind.” 

Merlin’s hand froze on the handle of the coffee pot, curling tight enough to break through the potholder as the implication of those words sunk in. He turned to see a frozen Arthur, an eerie fake smile on his face. 

Arthur cleared his throat, catching his father's raised eyebrows and glanced over Uther's shoulder. Uther turned enough to see Merlin, still at the stove.   
  
"Ah, well, we'll discuss it later," Uther went back to his newspaper. 

Merlin stared at Arthur, neither of them willing to have more than an unspoken conversation in front of Uther. Even if he could talk, he wouldn’t know what to say—his thoughts were a muddle of confusion and anger. The hurt hadn’t even had enough time to set in and Arthur seemed to be pleading with him. 

Gwaine came bounding into the kitchen, letting the screen door snap hard enough to make Uther flinch. Arthur jumped out of his seat.   
  
"Merlin!" Gwaine clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder with a huge grin. "There coffee in there?" 

Uther looked up, annoyed. His eyes stopped on Arthur's face.   
  
"Are you feeling alright, Arthur?”   
  
"Yeah, fine."

Arthur made a move to get up from the table. That snapped Merlin out of his stupor. He shoved his coffee mug towards Gwaine who barely caught it before Merlin was out of the room. Past the safety of the “private, employees only” sign at the base of the front staircase. He had a multitude of things to do today, but he took the stairs two at a time and slammed the door to his room, slumping against it and sagging all the way to the floor. 

Now he was bleary-eye and just exhausted.

____________________

Once he could think straight, he went looking for Gaius, who was bent over something in his office. 

“Gaius?” 

Gaius grunted something in response. Merlin closed the door behind him. “We need to talk.” 

“About what?” Gaius still hadn’t looked up from whatever it was he was so engrossed in. 

Merlin glanced around even though they were in Gaius’s office behind a closed door. “He’s here.” 

“Who’s here?” 

“The buyer. For the ranch. I guess he wanted to scout it out without telling you.” 

Even used his kids to do it, but he couldn’t bear to bring up Arthur right now. If he did that, he was going to collapse on the floor. He’d been a moron, but he’d deal with that later, or so he told his aching heart. 

“I suppose so,” Gaius said dryly. 

“You knew.” 

Gaius didn’t look up. Or even attempt to deny it. 

“You deliberately didn’t tell us who it bought it. Why?” 

“It wasn’t anyone’s concern.” 

Merlin stared, at a momentary loss for words. The silence finally made Gaius look up. 

“You didn’t want anyone to know until there was nothing any of us could do to stop it.” 

“Merlin.” 

“You’ve been having trouble, and been under a lot of stress, and instead of talking to anyone about it, you what? Went asking some old friend in New York for help?” 

“No.” Gaius slammed a shaky hand down on the desk. “I did this for you.” 

“For me?” 

He and Gaius were having another one of those stubborn-fueled stare-downs his mother hated so much. 

“I knew you wouldn’t take the job with Uther if you knew—you’d think he forced me into a deal.” 

“Didn’t he?” 

“No,” Gaius repeated, clear-eyed and gazing steadily at Merlin. 

“I don’t…..” Merlin trailed off, attempting to pick a coherent stream of words from the chaos that was currently his brain. “Why are you so desperate to get rid of me?” 

His voice didn’t crack at the end, not with all the effort he was putting into maintaining it. Of course it didn’t. 

“My dear boy, I don’t want to get rid of you,” Gaius said, voice a titch more gentle now. 

“Oh really?” 

Honestly, it was worse than when he was fourteen. 

“You need to take this job.” Gaius was back to being stern and lecturing. 

“Why?” At this point, Merlin just wanted something, anything to make a lick of goddamn sense. 

“You can’t stay here your whole life,” Gaius said simply. Plainly. Matter-of-fact, as though the only person in the whole world who couldn’t see this fact was Merlin. 

“Why not?” He was more hysterical than screaming, but did that really matter? “Why the hell not? I love it, I’ve always loved this place and my whole life everyone has been telling me to get out. That I’m too smart to stay here, got too much potential. Why the fuck can’t I just stay put?” 

“Language, Merlin,” Gaius said, still in that infuriatingly calm and even tone. “Do you really want to stay here doing nothing with your life?” 

“It’s worked out pretty well for Will and Elena,” Merlin said defensively. 

“Will seemed pretty unhappy about having to drop out of college to take care of his mom, and that has turned into a kind of bitterness. And Elena—” 

“Elena is perfectly happy, in a year or two she’ll be making a living being a mechanic and she probably still won’t leave Tootsie’s because she loves that job.” 

“Elena isn’t you, Merlin.” 

As much as Gaius was making a fair point, Merlin wasn’t about to hand it to him. 

“I’m—” 

“Meant for more than this.” 

“Don’t I get a say, or has destiny already decided for me?” 

Gaius just looked at him, many things written into the lines of his face. All of which he forewent saying in lieu of telling Merlin to get on with his day. 

“You’ve got a lot to get done.” 

Merlin bit his tongue and turned to leave. 

“Oh, and Merlin? Don’t irritate Uther more than you might have already. You need that job.” 

He snapped the door handle down so hard he thought he’d broken it. 

“I’m not taking the job.” 

The door slamming shut cut off whatever Gaius’s response to that was. Merlin stood in the hall for a second, trying to get his breathing under control. 

“Merlin!” 

Gwaine always did have a knack for showing up at the worst moments. 

“Are you free to help with the trail ride today? Percy and I—” 

“I can’t today.” Merlin couldn’t take a deep breath, couldn’t think straight, and certainly couldn’t deal with guests right now. “I’m not feeling great.” 

“Oh.” Gwaine was doing that thing again, looking at Merlin in that curious, concerned sort of way. “Maybe you need some time off the ranch?” 

He may have a knack for terrible timing, but was at least helpful. The thought of getting away, of just running, made Merlin’s chest loosen up. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going to do that. Sorry.” 

Gwaine squeezed his shoulder. “You do more than anyone around here Merlin, take all the time you need.” 

First he sat in Kilgharrah for a good ten minutes, thoughts swirling and breaths hard to take. And then he started driving, no destination in mind.

*


	11. The End In The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Arthur can deal with being raised by Uther Pendragon, he can deal with this. He can and will find a way to fix it.

The only thing Arthur wanted to do right now was go running after Merlin. He had no idea where Merlin had gone, but right at this moment in time Arthur was willing to run all the way back to New York to find him if it just meant he could explain.   
  
But first, he had to fix the mess he'd caused. He settled back into his chair and squared his shoulders.   
  
“This doesn’t seem like a wise business investment—the overhead that’s going to have to go into converting this place has to be more than it’s worth.”   
  
"Arthur, a high end resort would make a significantly higher income than this place could in decades."   
  
The couple from Colorado had filtered in and were in the buffet line, arguing over whether or not he was eating too much bacon on this trip.   
  
“Ector had some interesting things to say about the idea.”   
  
Uther's hand stilled.   
  
"You went to a board member?"   
  
Twenty-four years old and that tone still sent a chill down his back. But yes, yes he had made that phone call while sussing out exactly what it was that his father was to up—and how to do damage control.   
  
"I did. He informed me this is your own personal, side project."   
  
Just when he had thought it couldn't get any worse, not only had his father sent him out here without giving him all the facts, he'd then let Arthur think it was company related when he finally deigned to bring his son into the loop. Thinking that Uther might actually trust him with something related to running anything at the company without Uther's constant micromanaging.   
  
"A new resort will be a boom for the local economy," Uther said, sweeping the last thing Arthur's mentioned under the rug with a flick of his hand.   
  
Arthur laughed. Uther shot him a glare and Arthur tried to stifle it, but he couldn't quite manage it.   
  
"Dad, the last thing this place needs is more wealth. There's more than enough of that to go around."   
  
What it really did need was fewer people waltzing in and trying to make it look like the metropolitan area that it wasn't. His father was still looking skeptical.   
  
“Fine. Buy it. Just pick a manager that will run it in a financially sound, but local friendly way."   
  
Uther was studying him. Carefully. In that way that made Arthur feel like he was back taking finals in college.   
  
"You really think we need to worry about the opinions of a few locals?"   
  
"No. I think we need to realize the environment we're stepping into here. The primary income for a lot of people around here are the tourists, but we're looking at investing in a place that is key to the locals, too. Not to mention, there's a lot of regional tourism in this area. If we screw that up, trust me, people out here are more stubborn than even our deep pockets."   
  
The breakfast area was filling up. Someone slid into the seat next to Uther, who said he'd talk to Arthur later and unceremoniously went back to the newspapers. Arthur took his chance and carefully exited the room. Then went striding towards the first person he saw, which was thankfully someone he thought might just help him.   
  
"Gwaine, do you know where Merlin is?” 

“Not here today, sorry.” 

“Not here as in…..?” 

“He’s taking the day off,” Gwaine said, still focused on what he was doing, “Don’t think he’s here, as in not still on the ranch.” 

Arthur felt a wave of panic rushing through his chest. He was already too late. He’d fucked up too badly and wasn’t going to get a chance to fix it. Gwaine and Leon were still focused on carefully spooling up the mess of barbed wire between them. 

“I need a ride to the airport."   
  
Gwaine straightened up. Slowly.   
  
"Why? You leaving?"   
  
If Arthur didn't know better, he would have thought Gwaine was two seconds away from a second-degree murder charge. Then again, maybe Arthur didn't know better. Maybe he deserved it.   
  
"No. I need to rent a car."   
  
Leon popped up behind Gwaine.   
  
"You headed to go find Merlin?"   
  
There were so many reasons why Arthur should question why the hell that was Leon's first assumption. So many.   
  
"Yes."   
  
"You can borrow my truck," Leon said, fishing a key ring out of his pocket.   
  
Arthur hesitated before taking the outstretched keys.   
  
"You sure?"   
  
"Yep. It's the red one with the Idaho plates."   
  
"Thank you, Leon," Arthur said, cupping the keys in his palm.   
  
Leon just smiled, a little sadly. Arthur headed for the line of pickups at the edge of the driveway, to hide the hole in his chest that bottomed out at the look on Leon's face. Helping or not, Leon didn't seem to have much faith in what Arthur was setting out to do. Or, Arthur was just projecting the utter lack of faith he had in himself. Relying on the outward expression of confidence that he mustered when he needed it (didn't everyone, sometimes) he found the truck and got in.   
  
He had one hell of an apology to make. 

____________________

Getting to Star Valley wasn't hard. Getting to the general area of the foothills was a little bit hard. After that, Arthur drove in circles until he thought he was lost for good. Each gravel curve into the trees looked like the next. Finally, just as Arthur was about to give up and stand in the middle of the road screaming Merlin's name until he answered, he skidded around a curve to find a red Subaru Impreza hiding in the bushes.   
  
Finding the outcropping took another hour. Really, Arthur just kept going up, eyes on the sky until he ran into another branch. His swearing at the latest branch to smack him in the face seemed to have alerted Merlin to his presence.   
  
Merlin did not look happy to see him.   
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
Arthur stood awkwardly near the rock as Merlin continued to steadily ignore him. Arthur sank down onto the rock, feet between them.   
  
"I'm really sorry, Merlin."   
  
Merlin glanced at him, but didn't move his head. His chin was resting on his knees, scuffed boots hanging off the edge of the rock. Arthur noticed for the first time how worn the polished leather was.   
  
"Why?" Merlin croaked out.   
  
"My dad's been looking for another high priced investment to sink money into," Arthur said, surprising even himself with the amount of bitterness in his voice, "That's the whole reason Morgana and I were here in the first place, apparently. I think Morgana really wanted a vacation, but our dad saw a great opportunity."   
  
"That explains the ranch."   
  
Merlin still wasn't looking at him and it was killing Arthur.   
  
"There's not an excuse, I'm just...." Arthur trailed off, searching for words. Searching, really, for an explanation for how he hadn't realized he'd felt the last several months.   
  
"A prat?"   
  
Arthur laughed. Sort of.   
  
"Tired."   
  
Merlin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He was looking at Arthur in that steady way that flipped his stomach and unnerved him.   
  
"Do you like what you do?" Merlin asked.   
  
Arthur drew his lips together.   
  
"It doesn't matter."   
  
Merlin's eyebrows shot up. Arthur shrugged.   
  
"It's a family business. Dad's been grooming me to take it over for a long time."  
  
"Yeah, but do you like what you do?"   
  
Honestly. Arthur had spent so much of his life not having a choice about that, he didn't know the answer.   
  
"I don't know," he repeated, out loud to Merlin.   
  
Merlin turned his head to look at him with a warm gaze that took the last of Arthur's steel and left him a bundle of raw nerves. Merlin opened his mouth like he was going to say something and shut it again.   
  
"When did you tell your dad the ranch was for sale?" he asked, finally.   
  
"We talked about it before our date down here. He already knew. Turns out he sent us out here to look at the Fallen Kings specifically. Just didn't bother to tell us that."   
  
It took a second for the bitterness in his mouth to fade and make him realize how he'd started that sentence. Wow. He really had gone and lost his head. And stopped breathing.   
  
Merlin looked like Arthur had punched him. And then a smile cracked over his face, for a second. It faded away when Merlin furrowed his brows.   
  
"Date?"   
  
Arthur really couldn't breathe. For so many reasons.   
  
"Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to assume anything. It wasn't a date, it was just you showing me…." Arthur trailed off, fairly certain that if he kept talking now he was only going to make it worse. The only control for his out of control tongue was to shut the fuck up.   
  
Merlin actually took his arms off his knees and turned his whole body towards Arthur.   
  
"Of all the things you've done lately, I'm not mad about you calling it a date."   
  
Did Arthur ever want to pull on that thread.   
  
"What are you most mad at me for?"   
  
Merlin looked at him, steady and quiet.   
  
"Not telling me the truth the other night."   
  
Arthur winced. Fair blow. Painful, but fair.   
  
"I should have."   
  
"Well, why didn't you?" Merlin had straightened up more and for some reason Arthur couldn't fathom, was actually closer to Arthur than he had been.   
  
"I got scared, ok? I didn't want to ruin the moment."   
  
"Uh hmm," Merlin was staring out across the valley again, "Just wanted to shove your tongue down my throat, I see."   
  
Arthur could feel his ears burning.   
  
"Maybe."   
  
Far be it from him to back down from a challenge.   
  
"It is a very nice throat," Arthur added, "But those ears on the other hand."  
  
"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my ears."   
  
Arthur glanced over to find Merlin cupping his hands over his ears.   
  
"Okay sure, Dumbo."   
  
Merlin punched him on the shoulder, grinning.   
  
The laughter faded out of the air, sucked into the ground by the looming threat they hadn't fully talked about. Just because he'd gotten a smile out of Merlin didn't mean he'd even come close to undoing the damage he'd caused. Arthur took a deep breath.  
  
"It sounds like you were just doing your job," Merlin said, tone entirely too neutral about it.   
  
"I was. Kind of. Look, Merlin, that doesn't matter. I'm sorry for hurting you."   
  
Merlin was less curled in on himself, but he was still quiet.   
  
"I should have told you the truth once I realized…." He was on a roll now, why stop. "Once I realized how much I liked you."   
  
"Yeah, you should have, you prat."   
  
"Yep, I acted like a royal asshole."   
  
That was the easiest apologizing had ever been for him. Even Morgana had to drag a "sorry" out of him piece by piece. At least, it felt easy until he looked over to find Merlin looking at him, gazing at him like he was looking into Arthur's soul and Arthur was thoroughly convinced that he'd never be able to do enough to get the open, vulnerable pain out of those eyes but goddamn, he'd spend the rest of his life trying.   
  
"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin whispered.   
  
Arthur swallowed. This man was going to be the utter death of him. Merlin's shoulders slumped.   
  
"So you're going back to New York and all this is over with."   
  
It would have hurt less if Merlin had just stabbed him instead of saying that in a broken tone. Arthur started to reach a hand out, but jerked it back.   
  
"Maybe."   
  
There his mouth went again. Running off into the sunset like nothing he said had actual ramifications. 

"You've thought about what you want?" Merlin asked, quiet.   
  
Arthur shook his head.   
  
"Ok," Merlin straightened up and stretched, "What do you want? Right now?"   
  
Arthur was staring out at the horizon when Merlin smacked his shoulder again.   
  
"Don't think about it, just answer."   
  
"I'm tired," Arthur started, voice as quiet as Merlin's, "I'm fucking exhausted. I spend all day working my ass off to meet expectations that I don't fully understand."   
  
He was practically shouting at this point. At who, he was unsure. Definitely not at Merlin. Probably at his father.   
  
"I just want to take a fucking breaking. I want to work on something that doesn't chain me to a desk sixty hours a week. I want to not think about Pendragon Industries for five fucking minutes." He turned to face Merlin. "And then I'll decide what I really want."   
  
Arthur wasn't sure what had cracked through to his face during that rant, but whatever it was, it made Merlin shiver. Merlin leaned in close, his mouth an inch away from Arthur's.   
  
"So do it," he said, reflecting all of Arthur's steel back at him.   
  
"I think I want to kiss you," Arthur muttered.   
  
Merlin grinned, cupping his hand around Arthur's face and brushing his thumb along Arthur's jaw.   
  
"Sounds good to me," he answered, leaning in.   
  
He swore he actually lost his mind when Merlin kissed him. Merlin's hands running down his sides and under his shirt didn't help. Neither did Merlin's lips or his tongue. Arthur finally had to pull back to breathe.   
  
"I'm staying."   
  
"How is your father going to feel about that?"   
  
"Can't say he'll be thrilled. But he'll also probably say I'll be back in New York in six months." Arthur smirked at Merlin. "Won't think I can handle the boredom out here."   
  
There was a twinkle in Merlin's eye. Barely there, but there enough.   
  
"Oh, I don't think you'll be bored.   
  
Merlin started smiling, for real this time.   
  
"That's better," Arthur said, fondly.   
  
Merlin's face crinkled into that beautiful grin of his.   
  
"You know Arthur, you're not so bad after all."   
  
"Didn't we already establish that?" Arthur laughed. He pulled Merlin in close, inhaling that scent of pine, sagebrush, and Merlin. 

____________________

Arthur was exhausted. Utterly and completely drained. He wasn't convinced, despite having been in his bed last night, that he'd slept in the last week. And the prospect of being shoved upright in a too small seat for several hours back to New York didn't sound like it was going to make it any better.   
  
The final offers were in with Sotheby's, Arthur had met with the local reporter to try and get out in front with a good version of the story. He'd also met with all the current staff of the Fallen Kings. Gaius was hellbent on retiring, something Arthur had mentioned to Merlin during one of their mornings curled up together watching the sunrise. 

“That might be fore the best,” Merlin had muttered. 

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“I’m trying to offer you a job here, Merlin.” 

“What?” 

“Merlin,” Arthur said, turning towards him and resisting getting down on one knee for the sake of a joke, “Will you be my ranch manager?” 

“Foreman.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“The position—it’s called a foreman.” 

"Oh. Ok." 

Arthur was quiet for a moment, trying not to just be an insulting fuck first thing in the morning but Merlin could see the tendons in his neck starting to strain. 

"Out with it." 

"That sounds so stupid, what is this, a construction site?" 

"Oh, because 'ranch manager' doesn't weird." 

"It doesn't." 

"To you." 

"Since when are you the metric of normalcy, Merlin?" 

"Arthur, if you do that we're going to loose ever regional tourist we've ever had. There's no way anyone from this part of the country would stay at a ranch that had a manager--they'd assume it was a tourist trap." 

“Fine. Merlin, would you like to be the ranch foreman?” 

“I’ll think about it,” Merlin said, eyes twinkling. Arthur couldn’t decided if he wanted to strangle him or kiss him. In the end, Merlin made the decision for him. 

After each busy day, he'd pull Merlin away from his nightly chores ("No, Merlin, I am not going to help you muck out stalls. I have something far more fun in mind") and somehow they'd end up in someone's bed. They’d sleep at least part of the night, Arthur was sure, despite his hazy memories of the last week.   
  
At the present moment, Morgana was slumped in one of the leather chairs at the airport, again. She'd been running around gathering all the information on all the tourist industry related activities in Jackson that she could. Locals working at his new investment or not, Uther wasn't about to trust anyone else's information. Arthur was convinced Morgana had been doing the more fun job of the two, but she looked as tired as he felt.   
  
Merlin was supposed to come say goodbye before their flight. He'd left with a new batch of visitors on an early morning ride before Arthur had been awake. His only tangible proof that he'd been sleeping was one moment Merlin was curled up in his arms and the next that side of the bed was empty.   
  
Arthur tapped his fingers on his folded arms, resisting the urge to check his watch. Again. Merlin was many wonderful things, but Arthur doubted that punctuality would ever be one of them. He was a little surprised Morgana hadn't started quipping about missing their flight over Arthur's latest, deepest interest. Finally, a black Explorer swung around the curve, stopping in front of the terminal. He saw the top of Merlin's head pop out, lanky arm waving at the same local cop who'd been there the last time.  
  
Arthur vaguely noticed that Gwen had walked into the terminal with Merlin.   
  
"Well, look who it is," he said, feeling like his face was going to break from how wide his smile was. A smile that was reflected on Merlin. God, he loved how Merlin smiled. It took over his entire face.   
  
"I don't know about you, running out this way," Merlin said, crossing his arms and grinning.   
  
"Oh come on, I'll be back within the month."   
  
"A month? You expect me to last that long without you?"   
  
"I don't know, you are complete klutz."   
  
Merlin looped his arms around Arthur. Arthur drew him as close as he could.   
  
"I'll be back as soon as I sort things out in New York, at least for the moment." 

He missed Merlin’s response because something in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he lost his train of thought when he glanced up to see his sister kissing Gwen. 

“Hang on,” Arthur said, staring over Merlin’s shoulder, “How long has that been going on?” 

Merlin glanced back at Gwen and Morgana.

“What? You didn’t notice that happening?” 

“Did everyone know about that?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“Well that’s definitely your fault.” 

“My fault?” 

“For being distracting.” 

Merlin laughed, dropping his head onto Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur tightened his arms around Merlin, trying to memorize the feel of him in his arms.   
  
"Are you sure you're okay with this going back and forth thing?"   
  
Merlin had his face nearly buried in Arthur's shoulder, so he couldn't see his eyes. But he could hear the uncertainty in Merlin's voice and feel his arms tensing up.   
  
"Yes."   
  
Merlin relaxed. Arthur grinned to himself.   
  
"Someone has to manage Dad's latest acquisition."   
  
"You did not just call me your father's last acquisition."   
  
"No, dollophead," Arthur lightly cuffed him on the head, "I did not."   
  
Merlin's face broke out into that beautiful smile.   
  
"Good, because I might have to break up with you over that."  
  
"Oh, so we're dating now?"  
  
"Maybe." Merlin moved his arms to loop around Arthur's neck, "Depends on how well you behave."   
  
Arthur just laughed, Merlin shushing him so he could kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this roughly a year ago, and signed up for ACBB as a way to motivated myself to actually finished the story. Thanks for coming along! Also, I just want to take one more opportunity to gush about alby_mangrove’s art. Isn’t is perfect??


End file.
